The Cutting Edge
by Legend Maker
Summary: A shattered city. A violent and merciless vigilante. And four teenage superheroes with good intentions and a greater challenge. This is the tale of life on the edge, a razor edge. Enjoy.
1. Run Down

**_The Cutting Edge_**

Writer's Note: Sometimes you start out to write a neat story…and suddenly you have something more complicated then rocket science. This may be the case with my timeline of Teen Titans fanfics, which not only encompasses my work but several others. So, to help people, this is the timeline.

Teen Titans Season 1 (and possibly 1 or 2 episodes of Season 2)

Black and White

Wings of the Eagles (which includes my separate stories Time and Time Again, White and Black, the author Bobcat's Epic of Gauntlet, and several altered episodes of Season 2, altered due to various original characters having joined. Got all that?)

Flashing Lights and Sounds (written by the author Jedi-And)

This story takes place after Flashing Lights and Sounds, and as a result several years have passed since Teen Titans began, hence putting all the Titans in early adulthood age (they're probably on the verge of dropping the Teen part of the name and just calling themselves the Titans). If you've never read my work, three OC Titans are part of the group: Savior, who belongs to me, Gauntlet, who belongs to Bobcat, and Scalpel, who belongs to Jedi-and. That's enough explanation for now.

Oh, and my thanks to Roger Corman, who provided the idea, and the darker and more mature theme, for this story. And the key word is MATURE. Even more so then my USUAL work. I'll be tackling some things I usually avoid in this plot, got it? MATURE. You have been warned.

Who's Roger Corman? Find out for yourself, I have to cut and run…run away from Jump City and to another…

* * *

Part 1: Run Down

Behold Light City.

Wait, you say. You've never heard of Light City? I suppose that's understandable. Then let us speak of it.

Light City was similar to Jump City: a city poised by the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, a city with a core of skyscrapers and other large buildings radiating out to smaller buildings and then to rural areas.

So what does this have to do with the Titans? Well, nothing really.

You see, Light City was once a tourist hotspot. When people left the drudgery of their daily lives, many came to Light City to do so. The city has a marvelous and wonderful beach, famed far and wide. And not only that. The city was famed for its amazing nightlife, which had begun back at the turn of the century with the discovery of the incredible moons that could be seen over Light City. It was where the city got its name from, as it was said you had never seen moonlight until you had seen it from Light City. Indeed, so bright and clear was the moon that the city had not had to install more then token outdoor lights until years after most other cities had had to do so as a necessity. With the beach for the day and the moon for the night, Light City thrived.

But that had been at a time when most of the Titans had been little more then twinkles in their father's eyes. In these days…times have changed.

When did it happen exactly? If any of the people who chronicle these things had to pinpoint a time, it was when the mayor, Geoffrey Tercero, had landed a contract with a very large corporation to set up several chemical plants on the outskirts of Light City. Mayor Tercero had made sure that the plants would not pollute the waters nearby, hence wrecking Light City's famed beaches, and he had been correct in his assessment that they wouldn't. It seemed like a win-win situation: no problems and many new jobs created.

And so it had been.

Until it was realized that while the company did not pollute the water, it was far from perfect. Instead, the company belched forth huge, dense clouds of chemical smoke. And while this chemical did not harm humans, it proved thick and murky, and prone to hanging around the lower atmosphere. Combined with clouds, Light City's famed moon suddenly vanished, hardly ever seen again, hidden behind the clouds of smoke and chemicals.

That had been the start of the decline. Tourism began to slack. But the town was stuck with the plants: removing them would hurt the city far more then a slump in tourism. So the city had dug in and hoped it would ride the rough patch out.

Except the rough patch didn't end. The problems compounded themselves. Businesses, fueled by tourism for so long, began to slack, hence causing even more reliance on the chemical plants.

And it grew worse, as the streets of Light City, so long lit by their moon that had now been locked behind huge clouds, now found itself cloaked in darkness, with little artificial light to chase it away, a darkness that had proved to be a fair hunting ground for those who walked in the shadows. Every city has crime, but Light City's had begun to grow, and was now teetering on the edge of being a severe problem.

The final blow perhaps came when a new man arrived. His name was Stephen Pierce, and he wore the guise of a simple businessman. What he really was a master chess player, and his pieces were all on the wrong side of the tracks. The mayor was easy to get on his side: he had long been proven to be far from virtuous (which is why he had been elected continuously for six terms. It wasn't because he was a great leader. It was because he had people who would make sure _the_ people didn't get someone better, in exchange for looking the other way on a variety of things, more then a few that had Stephen Pierce's hand in it) and it wasn't hard to get the right people in the right positions to ensure smooth sailing.

Three strikes, you're out.

Light City's beaches still remain, as lovely as ever, but few tourists visit them now. It's citizens, who once had wanted for nothing, now toil in the chemical plants or the few businesses, large and small, which struggle on. The streets had become territory for the bad elements of society, or at least the small fry of them: the elites stayed in far nicer places, the leaders of the streets paying tribute to them to allow them to continue their ways with minimal resistance.

True, in some places decent people did their best to make a living, teach their children well, and give them the skills to survive and the possibility to become someone.

But…it was clear that way was losing.

To try in live in Light City was becoming the task of a masochist or a hardcore idealist. To make a decent living, you had to lose the decent part. To get anywhere in Light City, you either knew someone or became someone. Those who tried to fight it were quickly bought, either by choice or after becoming engulfed in the despair that comes that you cannot fight the system. Those who weren't bought…they didn't stay. In one way or another.

Light City…it was not quite there yet, but it was becoming very clear that the glory days were done. It seemed destined to become a slum, then a hellhole…and then whatever oblivion claimed places that fell by the wayside.

It would be nice to say the Titans recognized the problems of this beleaguered town and had come to its aid. But…beside being little more then 97 miles away, the Titans, and Jump City itself, had their own problems.

They say change is good. Not always. But…what goes around comes around…

And before it was over, the Titans would know this city…

* * *

This city that had tried to collect money from several businesses to take to a bank. But it hadn't gone that way…

Detective Jonathon Chesbro walked up to one of the white sheets that covered the body of one of the unfortunate souls that had been driving the truck. The truck had been diverted down a side street that had been rigged with a spike strip. Once the truck was disabled, the poor fools, who had absolutely no idea how to carry themselves in a combat situation, had been quickly taken care of, and the money they had "guarded" had been relieved from their hands. Incompetent, yes, but they didn't deserve this.

Chesbro was startled by a sudden noise and turned around to see that it had come from an officer (and he used the term loosely) had stumbled into another one, causing them to tumble down right in the middle of the crime scene. Anger and irritation boiled in his gut at the contamination, but it was quickly washed away by the numb knowledge that it didn't matter. Whoever had killed these two men wouldn't be caught. And if by some miracle they were, it would be the second coming before they were convicted. That was the way things worked in Light City these days. He wondered which drug dealer or gangbanger had managed to pull this off…

"Detective…" One of (hell, the ONLY CSI that Light City had) said, getting Chesbro's attention. "You might want to see this."

Chesbro's brow furrowed as the CSI led him over to the other body, which had been placed on a stretcher. This was a simple robbery, what could the scene tech want to show him…

The CSI pulled back the sheet, and Chesbro knew. His gut clenched again.

"Goddamn freaks." Chesbro growled, and stomped off. He had always known that his city was on a direct line to hell before, but it had become crystal clear when what he had seen had begun to manifest: "special" criminals. The breed that other cities like Gotham and Keystone were infamous for had begun to pop up in Light City. Small so far, but these problems always grew.

The guard's face had been drawn on with marker.

A smiley face.

Chesbro, trying to keep his resentment under control at what the city he had been born and raised in was becoming, got into his car and got on the radio.

"This is Chesbro. It's more then a robbery. Looks like it was committed by…"

* * *

"THE PRANKER!" The Pranker declared to no one in particular, as he reached into one of the bags he had taken from the armoured car and pulled out a fistful of bills. "Ohhh, the only thing I like better then the green of dead presidents is the red of flustered faces! Smile, Detective Butthole, you have just been PRANK'D!"

Yes, Light City had begun to get the colorful breed of criminal masterminds that appear in these realities. However, they had not yet warranted one that was ORIGINAL.

They say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, and if that was true, the Pranker was obvious flattering more then one (much BETTER known and cooler) villain. The Pranker was black, but half of his face had been painted with white greasepaint with a full (well, half full) clown nose. One side of his hair was dark and cut close to the skull, and the other was bright pink and flared up in a semi-Mohawk esque way, splitting the two visages in a way that may have brought to mind another villain that the Pranker was ripping off. He did not wear a suit split down the middle in the same way though, but rather a white one with light, vertical purple stripes along white and black saddle shoes.

Who knows who this rip-off artist is, where he came from, how he got this way?

What, you don't? Ok, let's move on.

Unoriginality aside, the Pranker certainly didn't think he was a knockoff of anyone, oh no! Well, there was that other clown guy, but he was OLD, man, yesterday's news. He was the new generation of supercriminals! He was well on his way! He even had a few goons, who were also black, in their mid twenties, and possessing IQ's of roughly that. They were both dressed in roughly the same way, with pants, shirts, vests, and bowler hats, coloured dark pink-purple and subtle green respectively (to more stand out from the average gangbanger…who would probably have rejected these two morons anyway). The Pranker had never bothered learning their names, so to him Pink was Moron 1 and Green was Idjit 2. And they had helped him pull off the robbery, but besides that he couldn't much care. What was REALLY the sparkle in his eye was his girl, straight out of the cliché of the 60's Batman TV show where all the villains would have an attractive female by their side. His was Giggles, a thin and busty Japanese woman with sparkling mascara, hair tied in pigtails, and an outfit consisting of a tight leather tube top and short, tight shorts (Harley WHO?). Exactly WHY this girl was hanging around him and his boys, "entertaining" him and them, was a mystery to the Pranker: he, when he actually spent a moment to think about it, figured it was because of A) It was a better life then hooking, and B) He didn't much care anyway.

Pranker was currently finding much more entertainment in his hard stolen money then Giggles at the moment though, so she was entertaining Moron 1 and Idjit 2 with a dance that had probably been learned at her previous place of employment. The two watched with the dull, horny look of the unwashed male when they see some exposed female flesh, and making noises much like the apes they were probably only a step above on the evolutionary scale. The noises greatly increased when Giggles actually pulled down the zipper at the front of her top and opened it up to free her breasts. The Pranker droned out the noises his two goons were making at this show of flesh until it irritated him too much, and then he started snapping his fingers. Giggles immediately covered herself up again and zipped her top closed, as his two goons made disappointed noises until they realized he was waving them over, and their faces grew stupidly happy again: that meant the boss was going to divvy up the loot. Maybe they would get enough this time to pay Giggles for a more…intimate kind of entertainment.

"I'd say good work boys…" The Pranker said on his elevated chair, that was positioned much like a throne on the old games warehouse where he and his men hid out, as Giggles sat on his lap and he gave her rear end an appreciative squeeze that made her emit one of her namesakes. He'd make her make a lot more noises then that later… "Except it wasn't! You two were sloppy! I barely had time to leave my signature before we had to scram! I have half a mind to send you to bed without supper!"

"Ah no boss, c'mon, we got it all, we did our best…" Moron 1 whined.

"Not good enough! Your work is going to have to pick up if you want to stay! But…for now, let's divvy it up!" The Pranker said as he pulled a small table over and began rooting through the bag, extracting small mounds of piles tied together with elastic.

"One for you, one for me!" The Pranker said, putting a cash clip in front of his goons and then himself. "Two for you, two for me!" He continued, as he laid down another clip for the goons and TWO more for him. "Three for you, three for me!" Once again this played out, as the Pranker added to the number for his goons and gave himself the number outright. Even the dull eyes of the two men were starting to show a slight heat as part of them realized they were being cheated, but the Pranker knew it would come to nothing. He might have only been able to think at a level that was two above his goons (and that wasn't saying much), but he was still the one thinking at that level, and it had always proved him right!

And he was.

Kind of.

"Spare any for a guest?"

The Pranker jerked up from his counting, his two goons whirling around at the sound of the voice. The eyes of the three criminals and their girl focused on the figure standing in the shadows at the end of the room.

"Who the hell invited you?" The Pranker snarled.

"I let myself in…" Said the voice as it stepped forward, slowly coming into the light. The faces of the Pranker and his associates reflected off the black surface of whatever reflective substance composed most of the helmet that the figure was wearing. The black glass flowed into a red skintight outfit that covered every part of the head that the helmet didn't conceal, leaving only the figure's mouth visible. On each side of the helmet where twin sets of bladed prongs set in the center and positioned backwards. The red neck of the outfit ran into a black-colored chest, red and black mixing and zig-zagging together down the arms and legs. The boots were jet black, and on the figure's arms were thin, sleek metal gauntlets that covered (or coated, which was a better description) both his forearms, his hands covered in red gloves. He was fairly tall and a step above lanky, his body containing a musculature that would probably have fit a gymnast rather then a bodybuilder.

His helmet glass hid whatever look he was giving the Pranker, who was glaring hotly at the newcomer. Forget that he had intruded, he had a cooler costume! That made him mad!

"Hey! Asshole! You have intruded on a private business function! Make like a tree and blow your ass out of here!" The Pranker yelled.

"No." the costumed figure said simply. An expression filled the Pranker's face, one that mostly fit a child who had been denied a cookie before supper.

"Boys, show our guest out!" The Pranker yelled, and Giggles again made one of her namesakes as the Pranker's goons pulled out semiautomatic pistols.

The costumed man didn't move. He didn't even raise his arms. He just stood there.

"You really must wanna die, buddy!" Moron 1 said, and fired.

The figure didn't move.

And he didn't jerk back to indicate the bullet had hit him. No blood blossomed on his black chest piece to add to the red on the rest of his outfit. He stood there, as calm as he was waiting to cross the street, giving no indication that a bullet had been fired.

And the bullet didn't give any indication either. It was as if it had vanished.

"Not really." He said.

"MORON!" Idjit 2 yelled, and fired himself.

Same result.

"I think I'm getting the indication I'm not much welcome here." The figure said.

"KILL HIM!" The Pranker yelled.

And the goons listened, as they threw caution to the wind and opened up, their yells of effort and anger mixing with Giggles' screams at the sudden racket as they emptied their clips at the figure.

Who didn't move an inch, and didn't suffer as much as a scratch. As the guns clicked dry, the two goons stared in horror at him.

"You missed." He said.

The Pranker's eyes bulged in a combination of shock, renewed anger, and underneath it all, a tiny bit of fear. His goons were far from master marksmen, but they had been shooting from a distance of three feet. A BLIND man couldn't have missed at that distance. But somehow his goons had, with every shot…without the figure having moved an inch.

Or so it seemed to the Pranker. Had he been able to examine the ground by the figure's feet, he would have seen ever so slight grooves in the dust on either side of the boots.

Their eyes hadn't failed them. None of the bullets HAD hit the figure…because he had dodged them.

They just hadn't been able to see it.

Just like they didn't see it when Moron 1 stumbled backwards, his eyes wild with fear as he fumbled to eject his gun clip and insert another. He was finally getting the second clip in when it happened.

They never saw anything in between, although they might have heard a slight _clirchk!_ noise when the metal gauntlet around the figure's right arm opened at the front and snapped metal constraints up that the figure inserted his fingers through, covering them in a protective lattice of metal.

But they saw nothing.

One moment the figure was standing where he was.

And the next split second he was right up and against Moron 1, looking right into his face.

With his arm right through Moron 1's chest.

"I didn't." he said.

It took a few seconds for everyone to grasp what had just happened, and then Giggles began to scream again, even as Moron 1 looked down at where the figure's arm was, right up to the elbow in his chest, his fist sticking out the back like one of those arrow jokes you could buy and wear on your head. But this was no joke. This was deadly real.

Moron 1 made a low groan, and then the light faded from his eyes. The figure put his hand on Moron 1's face and shoved, pushing the body off his arm.

There wasn't any blood. Not a speck. The figure, moving at speed beyond human comprehension, hadn't just punched through Moron 1: he had literally DRILLED the entire section his arm had been in out, which was now lying on the ground behind Moron 1 like a sausage from hell. That part was bleeding…but Moron 1 wasn't. The edges of the wound had been seared shut by the incredible force and friction of the blow.

Moron 1 fell, as the Pranker realized the punk who had intruded on his domicile was more then some guy in a costume, as Giggles screamed again and Idjit 2 finally managed to reload his clip.

"YOU FUCKER!!!!!!!" he screamed, opening fire on the figure again.

The figure just walked towards him, as if he wasn't even there, as Idjit 2 fired round after round at him. The bullets didn't hit him. As you might have guessed, he was far too fast for that. He was so fast that the Pranker, Giggles, and Idjit 2 couldn't even see him dodging: all they got was a very slight blurring in the corner of their eye.

The figure tensed his arm, and from the gauntlet a blade sprang, a long black one with golden etchings that was slightly shorter then the figure's forearm. He twisted his wrist slightly and the blade detached, tilting up slightly as the figure turned his hand to grab it at its hilt.

Then he wasn't in front of Idjit 2 any more.

He was behind him.

A very slight pause, as the Pranker and Giggles realized that the figure was now kneeling down, his arm extended and his hand gripping his blade at a near perfect 90 degree angle to his arm.

"YOU MISSED YOU FUC-!" Idjit 2 screamed as he turned to fire some more.

And then he split in half, his waist separating and tumbling off his legs, as Giggles screamed once more.

"No I didn't." the figure said, as he snapped the blade back against the wrist part of the gauntlet. The blade snapped back inside the construct with a slight clanging noise as Idjit 2's legs fell.

Once again, there was not a drop of blood. The blow had been so fast it was as if it had come from a lightsaber, sealing the wound shut and preventing any bloodshed.

The figure stood back up and turned towards the Pranker.

"Now…" he began.

"DODGE THIS!" The Pranker screamed. While the figure had occupied himself with standing up, the Pranker had reached behind his chair and removed an AK-47, and now, kicking the table aside, the money flying everywhere, forgotten now, he squeezed the trigger and lit up the room, laughing manically.

This time, they saw the figure move. Or Giggles did, despite her shock and horror. What she saw was a blur of red and black, dashing back and forth in a zig-zagging pattern in front of the Pranker, who didn't seem to notice, who kept firing and laughing, his eyes gleaming frenziedly.

The gun clicked dry.

And the blur was restored to the figure, the man in the costume, who seemed to be looking down…until he looked up, holing his arms up and out…showing that each hand was piled high with bullets.

He'd caught every single one.

"This good enough?" he asked, tossing the bullets on the ground in front of the Pranker, who stood, gun at his side, his eyes bulging with rage and astonishment at this…thing that had appeared and…

And then the Pranker screamed, dropping the machine gun and reaching into his coat for his personal sidearm.

And the figure, his arms still outstretched with his empty palms up, did a quick snapping motion, twisting his palms down in a movement that brought his elbows up, as the blade he had just used and a twin snapped out from the gauntlets and disconnected, starting to spin through the air as the figure snapped out each hand, crossing his arms as his right hand caught the left blade and vice-versa.

The Pranker aimed at the figure.

And the figure was suddenly right up in front of the Pranker, his leg snapping up and kicking the gun out of the Pranker's hand and into the air.

And then all Giggles saw was a blurring rush of red, black and gold, ever so slight whooshes of the air as the Pranker stood stock still, seemingly paralyzed…

And then the figure reappeared, snapping his blades down and to his side, and then taking a step back and twirling slightly as the gun he had kicked out of the Pranker's hand finally began to fall down again.

It drew parallel to the figure.

And then just one of his arms began a blur, a blur of color that consumed the gun, a blur that was here one split second and gone the next, Giggles barely registering it.

The gun hit the floor.

And shattered like glass, fragmenting into a hundred tiny pieces, somehow chopped to shreds in the quarter of a blink of an eye.

The figure turned away from the Pranker, who was still standing as still as a statue, as the figure twisted his blades and snapped them back into his arms.

And then the Pranker fell apart, his body suddenly splitting and disintegrating into a thousand small cubes of cooked flesh, just like his gun, a man reduced to hamburger in the truest sense of the word.

Giggles didn't scream. Her horror had gone beyond that. All she could do was make little mewling noises as she backed up. The figure didn't seem to notice her, standing with his back to her, as if contemplating the fact he had just killed three men.

Giggles turned to make a break for it.

Only to find him standing in front of her.

"Going somewhere?"

Giggles made a tiny shriek and turned around to run again. She got two steps before he was in front of her again.

"Not quite yet my darling."

Giggles repeated her tactic once more. This time she made it three and a half steps before he was there again.

"My my…aren't you a luscious one…yes…" the figure said.

"Please don't kill me." Giggles whimpered.

"Kill you? Why do that…yet anyway…" the figure said, stepping towards her. "You even smell good…such a lovely girl…and yet…I sense you could be lovelier…"

Giggles felt it like somehow had tugged lightly at her top and shorts. Then she found that twin lines had been cut in them, exposing a sliver of flesh on her breasts and on her rear. She gasped at this sudden change.

"What? You're shocked? Modest suddenly? You were willing to show it off for that human pond scum, and they were just horny dogs. I can truly appreciate…the female form…"

"No…" Giggles whimpered again, as a new and horrifying possibility reared large in her head. Would he…and with his…how could she…

"Come now…let me see…" the figure said, holding out a hand as if he was gesturing for her to continue what he had started.

Giggles crossed her arms over her breasts and began backing up, her head shaking slightly. Ever with his mask, the figure was clearly disappointed.

"Fine then."

Her top was ripped off before she even knew what happened, and even as she was suddenly registering cold air on her nipples, her shorts were suddenly gone too, leaving her totally exposed to the world besides her boots. And before she could even cover herself he was suddenly there, and then she was suddenly against the wall, the side of his hip pressing into her bare stomach and his right hand gently but firmly around her throat.

"Now…don't you think you should have listened?"

Giggles made a tiny shocked noise and began to cry, her sparkling mascara beginning to run.

"You know…" the figure said, raising his left hand, which was now gloveless. "The greatest thing about wearing a mask…" he continued, the upper back of his fingers tracing lightly across Giggle's cheek. If they had been lovers, this would have been construed as erotic, but the situation was far from that. "Is that when you put it on, you seem to become a different person. And when you combine that with power, you feel so many things…no more rules, no more responsibilities….no more…inhibitions…" the figure said as he leaned in as if he was going to kiss Giggles. Giggles made a low sob in her throat.

"But that…is for lower men. And that is not what I am." The figure said, drawing back. "So pretty…a lovely China doll…I'd love to sample you…your texture, your scent, your taste…but I'm not a rapist. Rape is about power and anger. I don't want that darling…I just want…someone to appreciate…just for a little while…and I know…I couldn't take that from you…and you'd never want to give it…so don't be afraid…I won't hurt you…promise…"

Giggles' look of sheer terror remained. Then, in the background, sirens.

"Ah, the boys in blue. Better late then never, I suppose…" the figure said, and leaned in again. "Remember this. Learn from it. Forget scum like your rip-off former boyfriend. Find a nice man…one who would protect you from the things…I'd like to do…but know are wrong. This time, anyway."

The sirens grew louder, but all Giggles knew was the figure, her terrified face reflected in his black glass.

"Go. Find a better place then this. There are bad things in the dark. And then…there's me."

And then he was gone, as if he had never been.

Giggles collapsed, curled into the fetal position, and lay there, her brain shutting down from shock.

To their credit, when the first officers on the scene found her there, naked and lying in a puddle of her own fear-expelled urine, among the bodies of the Pranker and his goons, they did nothing but help her.

As best they could.

* * *

(Writer's Note: Sorry if you thought I was gonna do a rape scene. I'm not gonna go THAT far)

* * *

And from these police officers we go to other so called "keepers of the peace", although this group was actually trying, in a sense, to live up to that responsibility as their sirens wailed and their tires squealed as the two police cars chased after their target: a getaway car containing two men. The men had robbed a convenience store, murdering the clerk in the process. Normally the police wouldn't care so much…except the store had been right next to a 24 hour coffee shop the officers had stopped in to grab a coffee…and that was it. What, can't ALWAYS follow the donut cliché! Anyway, the officers had taken umbrage to the fact that the two men thought so little of them they would commit the robbery considering the police cars were in FULL VIEW, and oh yeah, the actual robbery and murder, and hence had given chase.

The two killers in the car don't seem much concerned. They are so low on the totem pole as to not deserve names, so I will simply call them Driver and Gunner. Laughing and whooping, both were living up to their given names as Diver kept trying to outrun the cops and Gunner, leaning out the window and firing at the chasing vehicles, is doing likewise.

"Squeeeee for me piggy!" Gunner hollered, as he cocked his gun and let loose a round of buckshot. The fact that he was using a shotgun, a close range weapon, to try and hit a target that was NOT at close range pretty much gives you an indication of the intelligence level he possessed, but Lady Luck always seemed to have a soft spot for fools as Gunner got extraordinarily lucky and managed to blow out the right tire of the cop car in the front. The car swerved and crashed into the side of the highway embankment that the chase was happening on, and the second car had to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision, one that almost happened anyway.

"WHOOO HOOOOOOOO!" Gunner shrieked, and the two yammered and gibbered as they drove on.

"WE'RE GONNA BE FREE BABY!" Driver whooped.

"No you're not." Said a voice by the windshield.

Diver turned his head at the sudden noise…and found nothing.

And then he had new concerns as the car suddenly stopped, DEAD. On a literal dime. Driver's chest slammed into the steering wheel, and Gunner's head crashed into the windshield.

By now, the second cop car had managed to get around it's fellow and had resumed the chase, merely as a formality, as the two policemen inside the car KNEW that with the head start they had been afforded the two robbers would be long gone by now.

Only to find they weren't. They had stopped.

And not just stopped. The car was now missing its two front tires. And its engine.

"Uhhhhhhh…" Drover groaned as he came swimming out of the murk that had consumed him the second after he had heard the voice. He was aware of a deep pain in his chest and the yells of police as they got out of their own car.

And that was as far as they got, as a sudden blur of red and black zipped back across the freeway…

As the figure called upon his powers over speed and velocity, powers that had not only allowed him to disassemble the tires and engine of the car but actually suck all the kinetic energy out of it, causing its dead stop, and turned them inward, seizing command of his molecules and vibrating them, to the point where, for a moment so brief it was almost beyond recording, the figure lost all lucidity except for the very bottom of his feet, and ran back at the car and right THROUGH it, phasing through the vehicle like it wasn't there at all.

But it still was, and there were grave consequences to the figure's action. For in the process of the run, the figure's particles had briefly, ever so briefly, intermingled with that of the car, and while the figure was not affected, as he was the one commanding his form, the car was, as the particles were disrupted from their natural state, and as anyone who has ever studied atomic science can tell you, when atoms are disturbed, the results can be…explosive.

The figure reappeared on the other side.

And the car exploded. Well technically, the parts of the car and the men that the figure had phased through exploded, the two killers not even comprehending what had happened before the initial explosion and the subsequent detonation of the gas tank blew them straight to hell. The cops recoiled down behind their car at the sudden blast. The figure just stood there. As you may have guessed, no shrapnel hit him.

The cops slowly pulled themselves back up and looked at the figure, who looked back at them and gave them a very slight smile.

"There. I've saved you the trouble of arresting them and all the nonsense afterward." The figure said.

The police finally grasped what they had seen, and their training kicked in.

"FREEZE MOTHERFUCKER!" The driver yelled, aiming his gun at the figure.

"Why?" the figure said. "What are you going to do, shoot me?"

"I SAID FREEZE! DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

"No."

"I WILL KILL YOUR ASS YOU FUCK!"

"No."

The head officer cocked back the hammer. The figure smirked again, this time only using one side of his mouth.

"Hey, wanna see a neat trick?" he said, and then his blades were in his hands.

And the officer, already on edge from the explosion and not knowing the full extent of what this costumed fire could do, fired.

The figure snapped up a blade, and the bullet hit it and ricocheted off of it…directly at the figure's other blade, where it ricocheted again, back at the original blade, and again, and again.

The two officers stared in alarm as the figure bounced the bullet back and forth on his swords, the figure feeding it kinetic energy, the reverse of what he had done with the car, so it could maintain maximum swiftness, the arms moving so fast they couldn't seem them, just hearing the noise of the constant recoils as the figure showed off.

Before he grew bored.

And cut the bullet in half.

And hit both halves at such an angle they flew back at the officers and knocked the guns out of their hands. As the officers grabbed at the appendages that had just held weapons, the figure twirled, knelt down, and sheathed his blades back in the gauntlets.

(True, he'd had to run aside BOTH bullets when he had hit them and made tiny little adjustments on their courses in order to make them disarm BOTH officers without blowing off their hands or some other body part…but he'd done that so quickly the officers hadn't even seen him, so why spoil the moment?)

"I am not your enemy. Yet." The figure said as he stood up. "You were doing your job in pursuing these men. Keep doing it. Don't let them buy you. Don't let apathy consume you. This was a nice town once. I want it to be a nice town again. You can either help me…or get in my way. And that's a bad place to be."

The figure disappeared.

And suddenly the two officers found themselves next to each other, their hats turned backwards, their badges switched to each other's chests, their nightsticks in front of them on the ground…and their right wrists handcuffed together.

The figure reappeared in front of them.

"Believe me. Make your choice. Posthaste."

And then the figure was gone again.

It took a little while, but the officers managed to uncuff themselves and get on the radio. They had a feeling their chief would want to hear this.

* * *

"What are you saying officer, I can't hear you. You're breaking up." Chief Rudy Bialas said into his personal radio station. He was a man in his late forties who still had a full head of dark red hair, but the muscle that had once been on his large frame was almost finished in it's journey to become fat. Not that he needed to do anything physical any more. He was the Chief. Let everyone ELSE do the work, he'd do the job he'd been bought, er, was paid for.

"I was say…if….e might ha…lante…."

"What? WHAT?"

"Sir, we have….blem…"

"Blemish?"

"Sir, we have a…"

"Problem." Said the figure who was suddenly standing next to Chief Bialas. Bialas looked up in shock, and then with a whir a blade cut the radio wire, even as the chief realized there was an intruder and opened up his mouth to yell for help.

He never got the chance, as a hand seized his throat.

"Don't. Just don't."

"HE…"

Within a second the door to the chief's office was jammed closed with a chair and his deck, and Chief Bialas was tied to his own chair with his own belt, and the figure was looking into his face.

"You people never listen." The figure said.

"HELP! HELP!" Chief Bialas screamed.

"I suggest you shut up. The only way they're getting through that door is through shooting, and they won't hit me. You, on the other hand…" the figure said, as yelling began behind the door as the police officers tried to respond to the cry and found the chief door's barred.

"DON'T SHOOT! DON'T SHOOT!" Chief Bialas screamed. The figure's mouth formed into a frown of intense distaste.

"Look at you. A puppet on his throne, letting this city go to hell for the sake of a few payments. You grew up here Chief Bialas, and look what you let this city become. Your city. MY city." The figure said.

"What are you…?"

"Have you ever heard of the Speed Force, Mon Capitan? Strange place. They theorize it's this plane of existence where things happen at incomprehensible speeds, speeds that make the speed of light look like a snail. And sometimes…some people…they find a way to reach out and touch this dimension…tap its amazing swiftness. There have been several people who have done this Chief. The Flash. Johnny Quick. Impulse…or is he Kid Flash now? I forget. And then…there's me." The figure said. His speech was a bit slower then usual, because he had to keep pausing to breathe.

"Let me…" Bialas began, and suddenly he found a blade at his throat.

"You have let this city go to hell. This is your lone chance of redemption. You are no longer a toady and a pawn. You are the leader of this force. Send it out. Take down the bad guys. ALL of them. Do what you are SUPPOSED to do. Because if you don't…I'll kill you Chief. You, and every single officer in this department, and everyone else I have to…to make this place a nice town again. And I don't care about numbers, chief. When you go as fast as I do…time takes on a whole new meaning. Do your job, or DIE. There is no other option. Do not try to stop me. Do not try to defeat me. Either work with me, or work your way into a grave."

The figure pressed the blade in. Bialas's nostrils snorted out a breath in sheer terror.

"My name is Cauterize."

Cauterize withdrew the blade, and more air shot from Bialas's nostrils.

"One breath. I'm never farther away then that."

And then he was gone, the door open, the officers that had been trying to break in suddenly lying on their ass as a great force shoved past them and left the building far behind him before they had even hit the ground.

In the pandemonium that followed, it took the chief forty minutes before he could make the call.

* * *

"Stop whining you pathetic piece of shit." Hissed Stephen Pierce. "I pay you good money. Either get rid of this vigilante, or I'll find someone who can."

"But…"

"Get on his ass. Run him to ground. He's killed in cold blood, use that as an excuse. Do not even think of calling me again until he's dead. I will not tolerate anything else."

Stephen Pierce hung up in disgust. What a disgusting man, and with limited uses.

Still…Pierce figured he'd beef up his security.

He might need it.

* * *

Cauterize stood on the building, looking up onto the sky. He had removed his helmet, and had the moonlight shone down on Light City like it once had, you might have been able to see his features. But the moon was lost behind thick clouds, and you can see nothing. But you can hear.

"So…it begins…that fool probably won't listen to me…guess I'll have to kill him…and anyone else…" Cauterize said. Some might have called him morally bankrupt for thinking of murder so lightly, but as far as Cauterize was concerned, morals were a nice thing that didn't work any more. Nice things were for nice places. Once Light City was a nice place again…they could talk. But until then…

So Cauterize stared off into the distance, wishing for a moon, and planning his next steps.

There were a lot of them.

But he wasn't worried.

When it came to stepping, he was a cut above.

To Be Continued


	2. Blood Will Run

Part 2: Blood Will Run

And from Light City we head back to Jump City, and to the island off its coast that holds the T-Tower, home of our heroes, the Teen (well, not really so much any more) Titans. Let us pan over the grounds…

Past Raven, who is tending to her new flower garden, a pastime she discovered recently that helps relax her, and considering all the trouble the Teen Titans find themselves, she needs all the relaxation she can get…

And we go into the Tower, passing by Cyborg in the garage as he tinkers with the T-Car Mk 4.7, and up the stairs and past Robin who is in the training room, stripped down to his pants as he furiously pounds a punching bag, abet in the grip of intense concentration rather then any rage or violence. And we pan past him and through several hallways and up a flight of stairs before we finally stop before two men.

If you could call them that, as the two look drastically different from the average human male. Then again, that was probably a good thing.

"Why are we doing this again?" asked the newest Titan member: Nigicalnack Hastionfarlock, aka Nigel Hastings, aka Scalpel. Nigel was an alien like Starfire, and actually of a race that had warred with hers for centuries, the Blacktrinians. He had grey skin, light blue hair, eyes with black corneas and dark blue pupils, very long elvin ears, and instead of human-esque hands and feet, he possessed two long clawed fingers and a thumb on each hand, and feet that were much like his hands. Nigel was many things: a doctor, a warrior, a failure, a monster, a lover, a fallen one: his story was long and complicated, so if you want to learn it, go read Flashing Lights and Sounds, by Jedi-and.

In any case, Nigel had been on earth a long time by now, but was still learning the subtleties of human culture.

"Dude, it's called a prank!"

I never said they were honorable subtleties.

Nigel's companion is the green skinned and furred Garfield Logan, Gar to his friends, aka Beast Boy.

"You go on the door and call for Noel, and since he trusts you, he'll come to see what's going on, and when he opens the door, a bucket of maple syrup falls on his head!"

"I see."

Beast Boy grinned.

"We shall drench Noel in that sticky edible substance you humans pull from trees, hence making him very mad at both of us, and wrecking his trust in me, which I need on the battlefield and during my examinations…and we shall gain from this incident…what?"

"Ah man Nigel, this is almost as bad as when you were learning to tell jokes." Beast Boy said.

(Flashback)

"Ok, go Nigel!"

"Here's my wife, please take her right now."

"No no no! Again!"

"Would you like to take something? My wife is available…"

Thud.

(End flashback)

"Dude, it's a prank! He can't stay mad at us for long!"

"Garfield, you and I both know the candor of that statement is unsound at best."

"Aw come on man! We need to do SOMETHING to pass the time!"

"Yes, but to paraphrase our friend Rob, perhaps this is not a good time to do something stupid…"

"IT'S ALWAYS A GOOD TIME TO DO SOMETHING STUPID!" Came a sudden bellow as Robert Candide, aka Gauntlet, the artifact wielding, joke cracking, forever unserious Titan suddenly popped up out of nowhere, scaring the two Titans. "Now, there was something about a prank?"

"To be played on Noel." Nigel said.

"Ohhhhh, even better! What are we doing? The Attract and Dog? The Slip and Slide? Maybe even the all powerful Splat and Run?"

"The Splat and Run." Beast Boy said. Rob looked like he was about to swoon.

"Mar-ver-lous! It is good you can be taught! Now…!" Rob said, as he made sweeping arm gestures.

"Robert, what happened to you?" Nigel said, as both he and Beast Boy noticed that Robert was covered in mud, twigs, and leaves.

"Oh, this! Well you see, I owed Kory a favor, and she decided to have me walk her new puppy in the park. So I was doing that, and then this old lady accused me of stealing her purse! So I threw the puppy at her! But she kept coming, so I hit her with this purse I found…but the point is, we have to pull a huge prank on Noel, and we have to…" Rob trailed off at the sudden wide-eyed look that Beast Boy and Scalpel were wearing. He knew what THAT indicated. "Aw man, is he behind me?" Rob asked, sticking his arms behind him and waving them to see if they made contact with a certain white haired Titan.

"No. I'm in front of you."

"GAH!" Rob said, jumping back slightly as the white haired and garbed Noel Collins, aka Savior, indeed proved to have somehow gotten in front of him.

"Um…well Noel…wait a sec, why am I explaining myself? We've known each other for over three years!"

"Which was about 2 years and 11 months too long." Noel said in a way that was actually being nice: his tone was serious rather then condescending.

"Come on Noel!!!!!!! Please?" Rob said.

Noel just crossed his arms and gave Rob a look that had scared some criminals into confessing. In a team of joyous souls, Noel was the standout, the serious and dour one that always looked at the reality of situations, no matter what they were. True, he could loosen up, laugh, have fun, and act like a teenager/young adult, but accomplishing this took some doing, or in the case of Robert Candide, a messianic intervention. Noel knew that Robert had proven himself many times and respected his accomplishments and aid. He just didn't like him very much.

"Heh heh heh…" Rob said, putting a hand behind his head and sweatdropping…and realizing too late that the purse was still hanging on his wrist. Noel regarded the bag as if it were an interesting new species of animal, and Robert jerked his arm down in an attempt to hide it…

Causing the small dark cube to fall out and clatter on the floor. In the way that eyes attracted to sudden movement are, everyone looked at it.

"What's that?" asked Noel.

"Nothing, carry on!" Rob replied, reaching down to pick it up.

The Shimmer beat him to it, as the white line extended from Noel's hand and picked up the device before Rob could.

"What is this?" Noel asked, forgetting for the moment that Rob had seemingly just committed an act of larceny and assault against a senior citizen, as he looked at the small object.

"Absolutely nothing! Give it back now please!"

"I would have if it was nothing, but this is clearly something." Noel said, turning around. Rob darted around him.

"No really, it's nothing! Just a bit of craftsmanship from a friend! I wanted him to make a me a Rubik's Cube!"

"Right, A Rubik's Cube that's small, one color, and without any segments at all."

"I never said he was good at his craft!"

"This is another PDEM, isn't it?" Noel said. Rob opened his mouth, hung it for a second, and then shut it again.

"Yeah, it is. And it IS mine Noel. Give it back."

"Like hell Rob, I know how you get these and it's not like you have any great claim to them." Noel said.

The so-called PDEM stood for Personal Deus Ex Machina, and in theory the small cube was just that. It was created by Rob's somewhat mentor and teacher and far more house guest and loafer Pangloss the Mighty, an ancient mystical being that was two things 1) Possessing of so much power that when Noel had actually grasped the magnitude of it he had actually lost control of his bowels, which he had managed to keep secret from everyone, and good thing for that, Rob would have had enough ammunition until the team's name was the Geriatric Titans, and 2) So incredibly lazy and lacking drive and motivation that he never used his power except to please him. Pangloss could have purged the world from virtually all evil, or likewise taken control of it and ruled it for a thousand eons, but he cared for neither. He'd rather sit on the couch and eat pork rinds and watch soap operas. When he actually did something that was HELPFUL, it was usually by accident, or just a cast off of whatever he was doing. Hence was the case of the first PDEM, which Rob had not revealed until he had used it. And while it had, in a sense, saved the day, the concept of an item that could theoretically provide a solution to ANY problem, even if it was just once, was immensely helpful and useful, and hence, Noel did not want Rob to have it. He THOUGHT that Rob MIGHT have enough common sense to save it for a serious emergency…but he wasn't wholly sure that Rob wouldn't just pull it out to use it to beat Mumbo so he could get home in time to watch _Survivor._

"Noel, please! It's mine! If you take that, you're no better then me!"

"Excuse me?"

"I on, support me here guys!"

"Uh…yeah Noel, he did manage to get another one, give it back! Don't be mean!" Beast Boy said.

"I'm not being mean. I'm being practical."

"ARGH! EVEN WORSE!" Rob moaned. Noel sighed. He hated always having to be the bad guy.

"Look Rob, I'll speak to you clearly and without superciliousness…"

"Gesendheit."

A vein throbbed in Noel's forehead.

"Moving ON…Rob, you weren't here for the Lord. I was. And I don't ever want anything like that to happen again. We lucked out, mostly, with Whim and the Sorceress, but who knows what next time will bring? In battles like that, in victory we have often lost a great deal. If we could have something that could UNDO that…now, don't you think it would be better all around if I was in possession of such a device and not you?"

"No."

"Ok, why not?"

"It's really quite simple Noel. First, you don't know how to work it…"

"You press the button and tell it what to do."

"Well yes, but you have to use the right tone! If you're not careful, you'll ask to save the day and it'll hear pave the way and make you a new freeway…"

(Later)

"…And you have to understand it was on the bestseller list for twenty months, surely he must know what he's talking about…"

(Much later)

"…And people say we shouldn't squash insects because they are supposedly part of the great food chain, with all life forms dependant on each other via complicated and subtle interrelationships, which goes as follows: Man gets his food from eating cows, which in turn eat corn, which in turn comes from Iowa, which in turn was part of the Louisiana Purchase, which was in turn obtained from France, which in turn eats garlic, which in turn repels vampires, which in turn sucks the blood out of Man. So we can see that without insects…hey, I just realized, there ARE no insects in the great food…HEY!" Rob yelled, as he finally realized Noel and the others had stopped listening long ago and were now sitting on the couch playing a video game. "What do you think you're doing here!"

"Why? Are you taking a survey?" Noel commented, and frowned as his car blew up a moment later. _Goddamn leader specific power ups._

"Noel!" Rob whined, which was VERY unusual. He must have really wanted the device back. Noel sighed and decided he'd give Rob another chance, and took leave of the game.

"Ok Rob, over here." Noel said, drawing Rob over to a nearby window, where the two began to speak. Gar Logan pondered listening for a second, and then realized that Rob was acting in rare fashion by actually acting SERIOUS, and droned it out as he concentrated on the game.

Until it happened.

"Hey guys." Tara Markov, aka the earth commanding Terra said as she walked past the two.

Gar immediately lost his concentration, and his car veered off a cliff as he watched Tara head for the kitchen. It didn't take Nigel long to notice his fellow player's lack of concern with what a moment ago had been a life and death matter.

"You appear to be losing Gar."

"Yeah."

"In fact you just lost, I crossed the finish line."

"Good for you."

"I just broke your high score you worked on for three months to achieve."

"Great."

"You know, I ate someone today."

"Sounds like fun."

Realizing that he wasn't going to get his friend's attention verbally, Nigel resorted to physicality as he placed his long, clawed fingers behind Gar's ear and flicked, hard.

"OW!"

"Ah, he lives."

"I could HEAR you Nigel…it's just that…" Gar said, and sighed.

"Garfield, I know that this is probably pointless, but it is clear to me what is going on, but it does no one any good if all you do with it is this. So why don't you just tell her?"

"Nigel…I wish it was that easy…" Gar said, and sighed again. He and Tara had quite a bit of history, most of which seemed to be made up of missed opportunities. When she had first joined, back in the dog days when they had found her being chased by a rock scorpion (Writer's Note: To those reading the first time, in my timeline Gauntlet stopped Terra from leaving, hooking up with Slade, and all the stuff that came afterward. And considering what ultimately happened at the end of Aftershocks, I think she'd prefer it that way), they had seemed to have a lot in common and a physical attraction. But things never seemed to develop for them. Terra's first mission, against the horrific mutation Aberration, had nearly gotten her killed and implanted in her deep fears that were still being dealt with. And that had just been the beginning: the two of them had been through other things including separation, loss of power, attraction to others, and worse things Gar would prefer not to remember. Finally, Garfield had decided that if something were to develop, he would let it. That decision was now backfiring as the attraction was still there, cooled but alive, and it had begun to gather steam again. The bad part? Terra seemed to have forgotten the old days, and didn't seem to be picking up on anything…

Nigel suggested that he just go up and say something? What COULD he say? He'd make a bad joke and she'd laugh, but it would be a shallow expression, one that could never express what he felt deep down. Noel was the one good with words…what could HE do?

Maybe he'd ask Noel later…anything would be better then this.

* * *

_Anything would be better then this._

Or so Tara though as she leaned on the wall to the immediate right of the part of the kitchen she had entered.

She had thought for sure she had caught Gar's attention. She'd walked perfectly: subtly but seductively. She would have thought she'd feel liquid on her ankles from the drool. Instead, when she had finally decided to steal a backwards glance, she had found him talking to Nigel, like she wasn't there.

What had happened? She remembered the old days…

(Abet not the fact that her nervousness had made her hesitate a tad too long in taking her backwards glance and when she had Nigel had already gotten Gar's attention. D'oh.)

Tara sighed and wondered what was wrong with her. She knew she had looks. Plenty of men had told her so (and some had tried to do more, she remembered with a shudder), but the one person she was interested in…every time she tried something he didn't seem to notice…

(Actually he was struggling with embarrassment…)

He barely spoke to her any more…

(Didn't want to trip over his words and say the wrong thing…)

Maybe she should be more aggressive…but what if he told her that in the end he didn't want anything, that the old days were just that and it was time to move on…

(Which was exactly what HE feared…)

What was it?

(The old idiot plot on how a few candid questions could clear up the whole mess in a page, but then we wouldn't have a plot would we? (CRASH) Sigh, there goes the Forth Wall again…)

Maybe she was too thin. Starfire, Raven, his old girlfriend Charm…they had curves. She was as thin as a stick. Maybe she should put on a few pounds…

Maybe she'd do that anyway. She needed some help with her problem.

* * *

Tara thought she had a problem. She, like many people, didn't have a clue.

Let us go back to Light City…

To a dimly lit crime scene…

And to Latoya Daye, an overweight black woman, who is screaming and bawling in the way only a mother can.

Fifteen minutes ago, her three-year-old daughter was murdered.

Why? Five days ago, Latoya had been heading home from work when she had witnessed an altercation between two men, one of whom had been skimming off the top of the take of the local crime boss, Deenen Combs, and the other who had been sent by him to show his displeasure, with a tire iron. Latoya had unfortunately witnessed some of this, and the cops had managed to track her down. Latoya had, despite being threatened with jail time and various other things, refused to admit she had seen anything. She knew what would happen.

And it had happened anyway. Deenen Combs wasn't going to take chances on people. One quick drive by, and the deed was done. Now, not only would Latoya never testify, no one else in the neighborhood would. They knew the cost.

No one would be arrested or punished for the original assault, or the tragedy that had followed. The neighborhood would lose more sleep at the seemingly untouchable predators that now roamed their streets. Even if the police could trace someone to the killing, they knew what they would find: a 14 year old who had already been twisted into a sociopath who did the killing to make his bones in the gang, and there was little Latoya Daye could do, as she had to work two jobs in order to raise her kids well enough so THEY didn't become sociopaths as well.

And with all the hardship and hopelessness these days, it would probably happen anyway.

No one should have to hear the noises Latoya was making now. But what truly made it an atrocity was that it was for such a STUPID, POINTLESS reason.

One of the officers at the scene caught it out of the corner of his eye. Movement. But when he turned, nothing. Probably his imagination…or at least that would have been his thoughts had what happened last night not happened. But…there might…

He figured he might as well, and he walked over to the car and got on the radio.

"Hey. Officer Doyle here. Get me the Chief."

Cauterize didn't hear the officer reporting his suspicions. He was already on the run. What he had seen had solidified a target for him, a true cancer on his city, and he was going to cut it out.

* * *

The mayor of Light City, the "Honorable" Geoffrey Tercero, had always looked a lot like actor Tom Cruise (Indeed, when Cruise had greyed his hair for his role in his 2004 film _Collateral_, the two could have passed for twins in the right light), and in his own way, he was almost as good as an actor. Instead of Cruise's suave tone however, he had a voice that he had to keep carefully modulated, otherwise it became high pitched and squeaky. He was doing a good job keeping it from that at the moment, as he was on the phone.

"…deploy all your forces Chief. Yes, ALL of them. And don't bother arresting him…" Mayor Tercero was saying when the door opened. He paused as he waited to see who it was, and continued when he judged it was safe.

Entering the room was Deputy Mayor Roman Fernendez, a young man in his mid-twenties with black hair tied in a small ponytail, sharp green eyes that were a gift from his mother, and darkly good looks of the Mediterranean genetic type. You would think that becoming Deputy Mayor was impressive at his age, but everyone, including Roman, knew that there was nothing behind it. Tercero was the mayor, he held all the power, made all the decisions, and wouldn't hand over an iota of it until the day he died. At which then the men who owned him would quickly ensure a compliant replacement as to continue their business unharassed. Roman was the seventh deputy mayor of Tercero's reign, a role he didn't much enjoy filling, as rather then Tercero's right hand man, he was really Tercero's secretary/toady/suck-up. In fact, he rather resented it. A lot.

But…there was nothing he could do…yet…

"I don't care, do it! Don't call me until he's dead!" Mayor Tercero snapped, and hung up, looking at Roman. "Where the hell were you?"

"Bathroom sir. I told you I was coming down with the stomach flu." Roman replied.

"Oh. Well, don't make a habit of it! I'd hate to fire you Roman, you'd be hard to replace!" Tercero said, and laughed loudly. He tended to laugh at his own jokes a lot, which was rather nails on a chalkboard irritating to the people around him as A) His jokes weren't funny, and B) His laughter tended to cause his high-pitched tone to leak out. Roman cracked a halfhearted smile.

"Roman, take a memo!" Tercero asked. Roman didn't say anything: he just got a pen and a pad of paper, used to be treated as a glorified secretary. "Dear Mr. Pierce, we are sorry about any inconvenience this sudden unfortunate event has caused you. Now that he is dead…"

"Your honor, I was under the impression they hadn't killed him yet."

"Oh they will! They know where he's going and they'll meet him with enough firepower to end a war, and then it'll be business as usual." Tercero said.

_Yes, one must avoid all distractions to put in an optimum performance when one mistreats the people you claim to serve_. Roman thought, but he just kept writing.

"…express our honest hopes that we can continue our transactions in as good faith as we have for the past twelve years. On another note…"

"Sir?"

"What is it Raymond?"

"Roman sir."

"Whatever."

"Sir…I have heard a thing or two myself…I don't think you should be jumping to conclusions. This, um…I believe they are called metahumans, may be more then our…"

"No, he won't be Roman. And you know why? Because this is MY town, and what I say goes, AND I SAY HE MUST BE DEALT WITH!" Tercero yelled. It would have sounded much better if the last half of the sentence hadn't sounded like Tercero had suddenly inhaled helium. Roman kept a stone face though. He'd heard of what happened to people who made fun of the mayor's voice.

"If you say so your honor."

"Good. Now let us continue…" Tercero said, and rambled on for a while in a deluge of power tripping and ass-kicking to his unofficial superior. He was just finishing up when Roman groaned.

"What is it Ramen?"

"My stomach sir…I must use the facilities again…" Roman groaned, standing up.

"No wait hold it! Finish my memo first, I want it to be faxed immediately and I don't want any delays…"

"It is finished sir." Roman said, already heading away from the desk while clutching his gut. Tercero arched an eyebrow, and then he took a look at the paper to see that indeed the whole thing was filled out, with every I dotted and every T crossed, only his signature needed to finish it.

"You wrote it all that quickly?" he thought out loud.

"It's a gift sir." Roman said as he disappeared out the door.

* * *

Nigel came into the kitchen to find Terra chowing down on about a week's forth of food.

"…And what are we doing here?" he asked.

"Eating." Terra replied.

"I see that. Are you trying to set a record in the process?"

"I need to gain some weight. I'm virtually a skeleton." Terra said, as she tossed a wrapping aside and then attacked a half full container of Chocolate Chunk ice cream.

"Yes…Tara I hate to break this to you, but your metabolism goes like a blast furnace. All you're going to do is make yourself sick, most likely. Any gain you have will be minimal and quickly lost."

"What? No…really?"

"I am your doctor Tara."

"FUCK!" Terra cursed, and the tower vibrated a bit. A second later Noel's voice wafted from the other room yelling at Nigel that if he was irritating Tara to stop it.

"Why do you want to gain weight Tara? Most women on this planet devote the extreme effort you are showing to keeping weight off."

"I'm like a twig Nigel. No substance at all. I mean…how can I…" Terra said, trailing off.

Nigel stared for a moment, and then adjusted the hat of the outfit he wore, a bizarre alien fashion that consisted of the aforementioned orange hat, vest, and pants, with a white shirt and purple cape.

"May I…as you say…take a STAB at this…" Nigel said, poking the air with one of his long pointy claw fingers that earned an alarmed look from Terra. "Sorry, took it too literally. Does this sudden desire for weight have something to do with Gar?"

"Why won't he like me?" Tara blurted out.

Nigel stared, and for a moment he considered blurting out that Terra was clearly blind as Beast Boy liked her and she should just go and say so and every problem would be fixed, but then all the lessons of what humans called tact kicked it and Nigel decided on a different course.

Never mind he had confused tact with subterfuge.

"Well Tara…I'm not sure…you two have a little history I heard…I suppose that could be getting in the way…perhaps you should just let him come to you…he may want to and is just searching for the right time…"

"But when's the right time?" Tara asked.

_As much time as it takes me to drag Noel over to Gar in order to give Gar speaking lessons_. He figured Noel would know what to say best: he recalled the Valentine's Day where Noel spent six weeks working on a poem beforehand and busted it out for Raven during their early morning tea. Nigel had come in at the end of it and witnessed them leaving via a shadow portal. He hadn't seen them for the rest of the day. He wondered what had happened…Noel had seemed fairly contented the next day…

"Who knows? But things can work out my dear…and if you don't mind I have to…" And Nigel trailed off as his mind blanked on coming up with an excuse to leave. "I have to…uh…shuck some…corn…" Nigel said, and took his leave as quickly as possible, leaving a confused Terra behind.

Nigel headed over to where Rob and Noel where STILL talking.

"Have you worked it out yet?" he asked.

"We've decided that we'll put it to the Titans at the next meeting, but Rob insists on holding it until then and I will not…"

"Great! Rob, I need to borrow him, talk later!" Nigel said, grabbing Noel and yanking him farther down the room.

"Owtch! What is it Nigel?"

"Noel, I need to learn how to talk."

"….Ok…well, you pass. Goodbye."

"No no no! I need some romance!"

"Oh, is your thing with Sophie on the rocks? I must admit that vampire bat thing is a bit much…" Noel said, referring to Nigel's own lady friend, an undertaker named Sophie Matthews who now worked for the Jump City Morgue, and who due to a chemical accident could turn into a flock of bats. Their relationship was rather hush hush, due to Nigel's alien ways, but the Titans knew about it (and Noel was waiting for the wedding day, though he didn't say anything).

"No! For, um, er…" Nigel said, looking over to where Beast Boy was playing the racing game still and could easily overhear. Trying to recall human body language, Nigel jerked his head in the direction of Gar…and fell on his face as he wasn't used to the sudden shift of movement.

"Ow."

"Ok Nigel…" Noel said, helping the alien up. "I think I catch your drift. You want to play cupid for Garfield and Tara, right?"

"Yes! How did you know?"

"The two have been making moony eyes at each other for two months. I'm halfway tempted to just lock them in a room with a box of condoms and let nature take it's course so they can drop all this Romeo and Juliet crap. I mean, love in the end is just a bunch of chemical messages and little else, all that other junk about spiritual togetherness and two halves of a whole aren't worth the paper it's printed on, and it's a damn good thing that I know that every single word I just said was bullshit because I KNOW you're behind me!" Noel said, spinning around to see a stunned Raven standing there. Noel smirked.

"Gotcha."

A quick telepathic yank and spin later, and Noel was lying on his back.

"I regret nothing." He said, and kipped up. "Yes my lady love?"

"If you're done with the "Oh look at me, I'm like Batman with my great sense of things around me" nonsense, you can help with my garden. Fanboy." Raven said.

"But of course. I assume you will be providing the means of transport?"

"Yes, and if you even brush me, I'll dump you into the garden from five feet above ground."

"Yes yes, of course. We shall continue this later Nigel, I need to go, uh…shuck some corn…or something…" Noel said, and a second later he and Raven were gone via a shadow portal, leaving a stunned looking Nigel.

"I have the most terrible sense of déjà vu…" Rob suddenly said next to Nigel. "What was all that about?"

"Nothing much Rob." Nigel said, and his ears twitched as he heard a sudden faint thud, like say a body being dropped into dirt from five feet, followed by a faint "I still regret nothing!". "Noel's going to be filthy, and speaking of filth Rob, why don't you have a shower and wash all that guck off?"

"I was going to, but I checked the best shower and Tim has it. I guess I'll have to wait."

"Not too long I hope."

"Hey, it's a SHOWER. What else could happen?"

* * *

The shower was larger then usual ones, and had multiple nozzles, hence making it very very desirable. Tim was the lucky recipient, as he relaxed his muscles and cleaned himself off, as he hummed a wordless tune to himself.

"I shot an arrow into the air…where it landed I know not where…" Tim murmured, and then slid his face into one of the streams, letting the water start to remove all the natural oils that build up in one's hair after a hard workout.

Hence he didn't hear the door opening, nor see the figure outside the shower slip off the towel she was wearing. He did however, heard his shower door opening. His eyes opened as he tensed up instinctively at the sudden unexpected element.

"Gar, I have TOLD you we can't share showers, it's awk…ward…" Tim trailed off as he turned around and found it wasn't Gar Logan who had decided to share the shower with him.

"Hello Tim." Kory said seductively. Despite the skin color difference, Kory was looking every inch like a human female as the water soaked her. "I was just thinking…" she said as she stepped up next to her human lover.

"About what?" Tim asked, barely keeping control of the brain that had just had roughly ten gallons of hormones dumped into it.

"Well…I like to see your eyes…but that's not it..." Kory said, tracing her fingers along Tim's face. "I watched you there, pounding that bag…and I thought…look at him, he works so hard. Why? To protect our city. To take care of its people. To take care of us. And I started thinking…who takes care of you?"

"You do." Tim replied, as he did a little thinking. The two of them were a bit taller and larger then they had been in their younger years, but there was still plenty of room…

"I do." Kory said, and then she had abandoned the word game and moved on to action as she crushed her mouth to his. Robin responded, their tongues snaking out and intertwining with each other, as Kory wrapped her arms around Tim's shoulder and forced the kiss even deeper. Tim shoved her back until she hit the wall, the hot water spraying all around them being matched by a liquid heat that came from deep within their beings.

"Oh." Kory said simply as their bodies connected in the deepest way possible, and she lifted her legs off the ground and wrapped them around Tim's waist. "Oh. Oh Tim. Oh…turbarm hycerto….oh yes…"

"Kory…"

"Tim…oh God….OH GOD….OHHHHH…."

* * *

"Goddamnit, I like working on the garden with Raven but DAMN, it's messy work." Noel said as he walked into the kitchen. He felt like he had dipped his arms in wax, there was so much dirt on them. "Well, cleanliness is next to godliness…"

And Noel reached and turned on both taps in the sink on the hottest setting.

And he contently washed his hands, not hearing the loud screams coming from another part of the tower. I wish I could say they were of pleasure…but they're not.

* * *

Some time later, Noel had finished washing himself off and was looking at the TV Guide when Robin came into the room.

He looked a bit off, you could say. He was wearing his outfit, abet without the cape and mask, and his hair was wet. And he did not look happy.

"Did anyone flush the toilet? Turn on the sinks recently?" he asked calmly, as he glared at Rob and Cyborg, who were sitting at a table.

"Hey man, don't look at us." Cyborg said.

"I turned on the sink." Noel said, lowering the TV Guide. Robin spun on his heel.

"You?"

"Yeah." Noel said calmly.

Tim said nothing. He just marched up to Noel and glared down at him. Unfortunately, without his mask, his gaze was reduced from a menacing pierce to a bedraggled dog look.

"Did something happen?"

Glare.

"Tim?"

Glare.

"Tim…" Noel said, standing up. "If something happened would you tell me please? I'm not my girlfriend, I can't read…"

"DON'T MENTION GIRLFRIENDS!" Robin roared, and then turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.

"…Strange bird that one is, at times." Noel said, and sat back down and resumed looking at the TV Guide, checking movies. "You know, I don't care what other people said, I LIKED _Mortal Kombat Annihilation…_"

* * *

Annihilation.

Predators had come to the streets of Light City, bringing with them their deadly wares. Men with dead souls who would kill for a beer. Stolen and lost weapons that were bought by bad people with bad intentions to do bad things. And of course, the great product of the hurting, the hopeless, and the hateful: drugs, from marijuana to PCP, that which had made Deenen Combs rich and powerful.

All gone.

The dealers lay dead in the streets, their parts mixed with those of their customers in an eerie bloodless scene. Cars burned, giving off the horrible stench of dead flesh roasting. Many people cowered behind their doors, wondering what was happening. Some people had tried to hide from what was coming, but there was nowhere to run, or hide, or fight.

The trail reached across several city blocks, finally ending in a four-story apartment building that was falling apart on the outside and heavily fortified on the inside with steel in the doors and men armed to the teeth.

It hadn't mattered at all. Those men were dead, cut to pieces. All that remained of the doors were twisted and melted metal shards after the structure's basic reality had been disordered and subsequently detonated. There had been no defense and no savior for Deenen Combs.

Who now sat on the floor, his gun cut into three pieces by his side, and his guts in his hands.

Blood pooled from the hideous wound (a wound Keenen honestly did not feel much, his brain was still in shock), flowing into the black boots of the man who had done all this within ten minutes.

Deenen Combs would not be killing any more kids. His soldiers were dead. His minions were dead. His customers, wastes of flesh who just exacerbated the rot, were dead. And he would be soon.

And if anyone replaced him, they would meet his fate as well.

"Go away, Mr. Combs." Cauterize said. "Go to hell. The devil's already stoking your fire. This is going to be a nice town. And it doesn't need you."

Deenen made a strange noise as he continued to study his guts.

"Hell's bells." Cauterize muttered. "When I say DIE, I mean it."

And Cauterize turned and walked away. Which was strange, because he had seemingly not followed up on the threat that was clearly possessing of vile and venom.

Until Deenen Comb's head fell off.

He'd followed up after all.

So quickly he hadn't even seemed to pause in his sentence.

Cauterize opened the door, not going at super speed at the moment. You could do many things with the power of the Speed Force, but one thing Cauterize tried to avoid was going up and down stairs (which was ironic, considering that with his power, he could literally run up walls and ignore gravity). Certain laws of reality ceased to exist when you moved at insane velocity, and while this was usually for your benefit, it could work against you. If you ran down a flight of stairs at normal speed and tripped, you might take a painful tumble. If you tripped while going down them at 3400 miles at hour and didn't save yourself in time you'd go straight through the ground like a rocket and get pulped in the process. So Cauterized walked, keeping alert in case he had somehow missed someone.

But he knew he hadn't.

104 people.

He had just killed 104 people.

Within the space of a night he left the likes of Bundy and Gacy and Dahmer in the dust.

There was something to be said of that, a lot of things really. But Cauterize didn't much care to say any of them. He had his mission. Light City was full of rot and cancer, and he had to cut it out.

And if he was going to do that properly, he couldn't stay here. He'd made the slums (SLUMS! His city had SLUMS NOW! God damn them all!) a bit safer tonight, but if he wanted to give them a chance to rebuild, he would need to go after the real power players. The ones that lurked in the shadows and made the public figures who had betrayed the trust that had been put in them dance. No matter how much scum he killed, those men would just bring more in order to make their money.

He had to get rid of the big players. And he had to make them suffer. And once that was done, maybe…if the police would listen to him…

By now Cauterize had reached the bottom of the building, and he opened the door.

"FREEZE!!!!!!!!!!!" Came the bellow, amplified by a megaphone, as a spotlight suddenly shone on Cauterize's face. He instinctively put up a hand, thought his headgear filtered out most of the light. He could a rapid series of clicks. Guns arming.

He had known it would be this way, as his eyes finished their minute adjusting and looked at the mass of vehicles in front of him. At least a dozen cop cars, complete with SWAT Van, all of the police in position and aiming guns at him. And without any previous indication that they had been there. No sirens, no warning, no nothing.

He knew what that meant.

So be it.

"GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!" came the megaphone bellow.

Trying to keep his movements cautious, Cauterize scanned the crowd for Chief Bialas, the man he had offered his aid in order to save the city, aid which had been spit back in his face. He wasn't surprised. Bialas was a spineless ass-kisser, who got his job based on connections. Had he ever been an actual cop? Who knew? Cauterize didn't much care.

He wasn't here. But Cauterize had seen a news van on the very outskirts of the cohort of officers that had been sent to take care of him. Bialas was probably sitting in his office, watching this live on a local channel and sweating the sour sweat of the terrified, hoping that this would be enough to get rid of the man who had dared stand up and say that he wasn't going to stand for what was going on.

And he knew what he had to do.

"GET DOWN OIN THE GROUND NOW, OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!"

Cauterize sneered.

"GO AHEAD."

A pause.

"OK, VAPORIZE HIM!"

And the streets of Light City suddenly entered World War III as every single police officer followed the order. Some did it because they thought they were helping their city deal with an actual problem. Others followed orders because that was what they were. Others did it because they knew what this killer represented and what it could do to their lives.

The cameraman and reporter recoiled at the noise, as if a god were throwing a tantrum. It went on for nearly forty seconds before the call to cease-fire came.

Silence, and drifting smoke. The officers shifted slightly, wondering what was going to happen.

A figure appeared in the smoke.

Which blew away.

Cauterize hadn't seemed to have moved an inch. But he had moved. If only they could have seen his dance. It had been a thing of beauty.

But Cauterize wasn't in a beauteous mood, as he sneered again, his teeth showing like an animal.

"NOW I'M **ANGRY.**"

The cameraman never saw what happened. The police officers never knew what hit them. Indeed, it was as if nothing had happened at all.

All the reporter, Dave Patterson, saw was a giant flash of red and black, a flash that enveloped all the officers with a gigantic gust of wind that almost blew him over.

And then it was over, as soon as it had begun. Patterson and his cameraman, Englisher (yes, that was his name) looked back at where had been the pride and joy of the Light City Police Department…

There was no blood. No killing. Nothing so crude. Instead, all the officers were lying in two neat rows, normal and SWAT, all of them unconscious. Their weapons and armor had been stripped from them, and lay in several small neat piles nearby.

All done within a breath. The camera panned over the amazing display of swiftness and precision…and then Cauterize was in front of the camera.

"It is clear…the decision has been made." Cauterize said, breathing heavily, though his tone made it tricky to tell if the breathing was due to exertion, anger, or some of both. "My services have been rejected…and I have been declared the enemy. Fine…then. This is going to be a nice town again, if I have to cut my way through every single person who stands in the way of it. And the first one is YOU, Chief Bialas. It appears we have hit a wall in our relationship. SO BE IT."

Patterson and Englisher never quite understood what happened. One moment they were where they were, and next they were…elsewhere (in actuality, several blocks away, near the Light City Mint, which had once served to help with all the money Light City made but had now been closed down for over six years).

And Chief Bialas yanked open the door from the small room in the police station he had been watching this in, no longer caring about the sweet position he had, or all he stood to lose. He had to get out of Light City, empty his account and leave before that…

Vigilante was standing in front of him. Bialas stopped, and looked up into the reflective black glass with a tiny whimper in his throat.

"Can't even sit and accept your fate. At least I would have had some respect for you then." Cauterize said, and grabbed Bialas by the front of his shirt.

There were still some police officers in the building, but none had seen Cauterize coming, and the only indication that they had that they had left was the sound of the door Bialas had opened slamming from the wind gust.

And Bialas…was seeing something truly marvelous, in a way, as Cauterize ran, dragging Bialas with him, transferring his unique mastery over friction and resistance to Bialas, somewhat, so Bialas saw what Cauterize saw when he moved.

Perfect stillness. Rather then everything being a blur, it was as if everything was frozen and unmoving. Bialas saw people who were in mid-step who were now as still as statues, cars that had been turning now as if they were models glued to the street, even a hydrant that had been opened whose water had become like its frozen state, except it wasn't ice, it was water….perfectly unmoving and still.

This was the power of speed. Not to see how fast you were going…but how slow everything else was when you looked at it the right way.

As Cauterize dashed by where he had positioned Patterson and Englisher earlier…and stopped, letting Bialas go as he shut down his power and the protection it provided.

In a way, it was merciful, as it happened far too fast for Bialas to comprehend anything. Suddenly, everything went black, and that was the end…

As Bialas slammed into the thick stone walls of the abandoned mint, going at roughly 2120 miles an hour.

It was a solid wave of liquid that had once been flesh that splattered all over the place and all over Cauterize, soaking him and the street in gore.

Patterson and Englisher stared for a second, and then they both lost their lunch.

Cauterize strolled over to the vomiting media people.

"Get up. Get your damn camera on me." Cauterize said, and the cameraman managed to get his illness under control enough to let his journalistic instincts kick in as he put the camera on Cauterize.

"Light City. I am Cauterize. You've seen what happened to those who cross me…and believe me, there's a lot more…where that came from." Cauterize said, pausing to take a breath. "I am going to make Light City a nice town again. And to do that, things are going to change. I cannot be stopped and I will NOT stop. So to everyone out there who has grown fat and suckled on the teat of this city's misery…enjoy your lives. They're about to be cut short."

And then Cauterize was gone again. For a moment the liquidy hamburger that had once been Chief Rudy Bialas hovered in the shape of Cauterize, and then it collapsed on the street.

He'd left so fast he'd left the mess behind.

The cameraman thought he had nothing left in his stomach. At the sound of the gore hitting the ground, he found he was wrong.

* * *

The car drove up the chaos and stopped, and Chesbro stepped out. An officer tried to stop him, but a quick flash of his badge got Chesbro through to the crime scene. If you could call it that.

"My god…" Chesbro said, putting a hand over his mouth as he saw what had become of Bialas. "How did the freak do THIS?"

"Very quickly." Said a uniformed female officer. She might have been fairly attractive had she not had such a grim expression on her face. "I'm sorry."

"Why be? He was a shit. He won't be missed." Chesbro grunted, backing away. "So, this Cauterize…he neutralized the entire department?"

"Before we knew what had happened. And come to think of it…where were you Chesbro?" asked a SWAT team member.

"I took some work home and dozed off doing it. I got the call, but I suspect this was over long before I arrived."

"I don't recall your house being that far out of town detective." The SWAT officer replied.

"My engine has been giving me trouble. Wouldn't start." Chesbro said.

"Well, you're lucky. You missed the whole debacle. At least the chief won't have our asses. He's beyond such things now." The female officer said.

"Yes. I suppose so." Chesbro said, taking one last look at the mess before heading back to the car. Damn freaks. His town's elevator to hell had just had its cables cut, but Chesbro was going to be damned if he just stood by and let some nutball who thought he had all the answers run around in his underwear and kill people.

* * *

Mayor Tercero was trying and failing to keep the squeaking out of his voice as he yelled at someone over the phone as Roman stepped back into the office, straightening his tie.

"JUST DO IT!" Tercero yelled (well, shrieked), and slammed the phone down. "Damon! Where the hell have you been?"

"Washroom sir. I have a stomach flu."

"Really?"

"Yes. Quite a bad one."

"I should say! Considering how long you were in there I'm surprised you haven't shit out your own guts!"

"Let's hope not your honor. Do you need my help…"

"HELP? Kid, there isn't nothing you can do, that goddamn Speedy Gonzalez vigilante just beat up the whole police station and killed Chief Bialas!"

"He DID? SHIT." Roman said, and wiped his brow.

"I'd say and…why are you so sweaty?"

"I don't know! Something's wrong with the heat in the washroom, it seems to have a mind of it's own, it was fine a few hours ago and now it's going like a blast furnace!"

"Stupid repairmen! Bunch of fucking crooks!" Tercero snapped. Roman had to put all his effort into resisting the urge to shot back "Look who's talking."

"Kid, tear up that memo and…"

"Sir it's already been sent."

"SHITTTTTTT!!!!!!!" Tercero screamed. Roman knew why: Tercero's "owner" was going to be very unhappy someone was rocking the boat.

"What do I do? Call the FBI? The Army?" Tercero said. "How do you deal with mutants?"

"Metahumans." Roman corrected.

"What?"

"I believe they're…"

"You don't matter! I need a solution! I…" Tercero trailed off, and then his eyes blazed. "THAT'S IT!"

"What sir?"

"We have a freak, what we need are OTHER freaks!"

"You mean, uh, superheroes?"

"Yeah, the morons in the spandex! They'll HAVE to come help us, it's what those idiots do!"

"Um…sir…that might not be a good idea…"

Tercero turned his gaze on Roman, and Roman could see that despite the squeaky voice and somewhat comical manner at times that Tercero was a politician and survivor to the core, which is why he had been mayor for so long.

"Ok then Mormon. Why is that a bad idea?"

"Well…you've seen those reports! Whenever these people fight they blow stuff up and wreck things and…generally I think they would make a bad situation worse."

"Worse? YOU THINK this can get WORSE?" Tercero said.

"Also, heroes tend to have a territory that they guard zealously, rarely leaving it. Considering the apparent…skill of this vigilante…we might need some considerable power, and people like that…well, I don't know if they'd be interested in helping us."

Tercero continued his glare.

"True. It might seem like that. But as you will see when you've been here a bit kid, when life gives you lemons…you hire someone to beat the shit out of it until it gives you what you want."

"…You're going to blackmail some metahumans?"

"No, I don't have to do that. And that will be all. Good night Stone." Tercero said.

Roman knew what that meant. He was being dismissed. Like an errant child.

Fine. He'd live with it.

For now.

When Roman was gone, Tercero picked up the phone and dialed a number he had thought he was never going to use again…but the man on the other end owed him a favour. And he had something that could save Tercero's city.

"Hello? May I speak to Chief Doiel please?" he asked. Brief silence.

"Hello Doiel. Yes, it's me. Please don't hang up. I know that you don't much like me now…but you have owed me a favour for the better part of fifteen years, and I'm calling it in. And before you try and hang up again, listen to me. You'll probably…"

"You're next."

The whisper nearly made Tercero jump out of his skin, and he jerked his head around…

And found nothing. There was no one in the room with him. He hadn't heard the windows open, or the doors. He was alone.

Was he hearing things now?

The voice on the other side was asking what had happened, and Tercero collected himself. Probably just a trick of his brain. He was under a lot of stress. This should help relieve it.

As he continued to speak with Chief Doiel of the Jump City Police Department.

* * *

Tara looked at the moon, hanging in the sky. It had almost completed its waxing phrase, though it was still clear it wasn't a full moon. She wondered what it might be like…

"Nice night, isn't it?"

Tara jerked a bit at the sudden voice, and then relaxed as she saw it was Gar. The relaxation was swiftly followed by another feeling. _Argh. Goddamn it._

"Yeah…yeah it is." Tara said.

"Yeah." Gar said.

Awkward silence. Tara wondered what to say, and Gar was frantically wracking his brain to remember what Noel had told him to say before he had shoved him out. But his mind had blanked, so…

"Did you know that Napoleon once killed 1,000 people with a cough?"

Goddamn blurting reaction.

"…………WHAT?" Terra said.

"Yeah, really! He was apparently examining this large group of Turkish prisoners and pondering whether to let them go when he coughed and said to himself, in French, "My damn cough." However, apparently his officers overhead and misheard it as ANOTHER French phrase that meant "Kill them all", and they did."

"…Is that real?"

"Think so."

"French could change that much?"

"Not sure, I'd have to look it up…"

"I don't know if that's true."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe we should look it up together to be sure."

Awkward silence. Gar hoped his green fur was hiding his blush.

"Well uh…I suppose…" Gar said.

"Guys."

Tara and Gar jumped at Tim's voice, and turned to see their leader standing in full costume.

"Meeting. Right now. Come on." Tim said, and turned on his heel.

"Uh…ok leader boy." Tara said, following. Gar stared, and then began cursing in the back of his head as he also fell into step. So damn close!

One wonders if he would be surprised if he knew that Tara was doing almost the same thing.

* * *

"Ok guys, here's the situation. I just got a call from Police Chief Doiel. He wants us to do something for him. And before any of you say anything, let me point out that we have inadvertently caused huge chunks of this city to be razed to the ground…"

"Twice." Raven commented.

"Three times if you count…" Gauntlet added.

"QUIET! I know what has happened to this city! Now, the point is, the police department really does put up with a lot of nonsense from us, so I think we should do the chief this favor."

"Ok Fearless. What is it?"

"One of the cities down the coast is having a problem. Apparently it's a Speed Force controlling vigilante, calls himself Cauterize. He's already killed a lot of people and has plans to keep doing it. He wants us to go down there and stop him. From what I've heard, I think we should too."

A brief pause.

"HOWEVER, we cannot leave our city unprotected, so I have decided that only some of us will go there to stop the vigilante, and the rest of us will stay behind to protect Jump City. Now, I need a good leader for this task, gee I wonder who I should pick…HOW ABOUT YOU NOEL!" Tim suddenly yelled, twirling and seizing Noel with a look.

Noel just look perturbed.

"Am I missing something here?" he asked.

"You might say that." Starfire said, her voice a tad bit cross, which was odd.

"Ok, it's decided. Noel, you will lead the task force. You can pick three of us to go with you, but I'm afraid Raven can't be one of them."

"Why?" Noel said in what Raven called his Sam Neill voice (To be specific, it was from the film _Jurassic Park_, where Sam Neill, playing the paleontologist, is asked by the chaostician played by Jeff Goldblum if Neill's character is seeing the female he is in fact, seeing, to which Neill's character replies "Why?" in a tone that perfectly suits that of a person asking for the answer to a stupid question that he knows said person may not be able to provide…but I digress…).

"We…need her. Tactical reasons. We might need to go somewhere really quickly. Or…um…"

"If anyone says "shuck some corn…" I'm gonna…" Beast Boy muttered.

"I will explain later! Anyway, pick three!"

"Ok." Noel said in a perfectly nonchalant tone. To his credit, Robin hid his surprise and irritation. No no no! Noel was supposed to get mad and hence get an idea about what Tim now felt due to his blue balls…

"Not knowing the specifics, we could get hurt, so I'll take Nigel. We'll need a doctor."

"Very well. I'll go pack." Nigel said, as he got up and left.

Noel scanned the table.

"Ok…I'll take Gar, we might need his animal abilities for more then fighting…"

Gar sighed inwardly. It figured…

"And I'll also take Tara. She can be our heavy hitter."

Gar blinked. So did Tara. So did Nigel, who had stopped and was now sticking his head back out the door.

"Ok then! The team will be Savior, Scalpel, Beast Boy, and Terra. I suggest you leave immediately." Robin said.

"What? Why now?"

"Considering how fast this vigilante moves, the sooner you get started the better. Ok guys, meeting over. Noel's team, pack quickly. I'll loan you one of my cars Noel. Try not to trash it like last time."

"Excuse me, I DIDN'T trash it, it was Power Girl with her damn need to throw…" Noel trailed off as he realized Robin wasn't listening. He turned to Raven who had floated over.

"I am missing something here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but nothing you can change. Best head off quickly Noel, before he really gets mad and changes the locks on the tower while you're gone."

"All right, all right…" Noel said, and headed down to pick a car.

* * *

Wrong choice of car.

"Get your feet out of my face!"

"Get your ear out of my nose!"

"I call shotgun!"

"I already called shotgun!"

"You don't need that many clothes!"

"No Nigel, don't put that there!"

"I hope that wasn't what I thought it was!"

"Children, either behave or we'll turn around and go home and there will be no amusement park for anyone!" Noel yelled. "Nigel, you need more room due to your body structure, YOU get shotgun. Tara, Gar, sit down and get reading on Light City. I'd like to know what we're stepping into."

"But I hate reading." Tara grumped.

"Well unfortunately we don't have Cliff Notes or Books On Tape for this. Now start reading, PLEASE?" Noel asked in a pleading tone, as the bridge that connected to the mainland rose up.

"Anyone forget anything? Need to use the washroom? And so on?" Noel asked. A chorus of No's. "Ok, then we are off!"

Noel was almost at the end of the bridge when he realized he had never given back Rob's PDEM.

Then again, maybe that was a good thing.

* * *

And so the group of four headed off to Light City, as we pan back and see the car, a small dot of light on the long black road of night that stretched off into the distance, eventually ending in Light City.

Which we pan through.

All the way up to the top of a building, which is lacking lights and shrouded in deep shadow due to the hidden moon.

Cauterize stared off into the distance, at the roads leading out of Light City. He snorted.

"Metahumans." He said to himself. "Fine. Come and get me. And try to keep up."

To Be Continued


	3. The Rundown

Part 3: The Rundown

"Can we just get one thing out of the way right now?" Detective Chesbro said.

Savior sighed inwardly. He had a feeling what Chesbro wanted to say: the man had very reserved body language, but Noel had gotten an inkling in the short amount of time he'd spent with him.

The Titans had arrived in the early morning, and after surprisingly managing to find a semi-decent hotel, they had checked in for the night. Eight hours of sleep later, they had tried to call ahead to the police department to let them know they were coming, but were unable to get a response. Showing up at the station, they found out why: the department was in an utter uproar over the chaos Cauterize had caused last night, and with the police chief dead, others scrambling to cover their ass for one reason or another, and the general vacuum of command (which was caused because those who USUALLY put people in charge had been caught off guard and hadn't been able to pick a successor ahead of time, hence all the possibles were fighting amongst themselves), the entire place was running around with chickens with their heads cut off. Savior and the others had ultimately been dumped with Chesbro, who Savior knew from one glance was a step away from the rest of the police department. He was in control and responsible, and from the look in his eyes, thirty years older then his mid-twenties physical age. This man had clearly seen great hardship, the ever-stoic warrior amongst the incompetents and panderers that messes like Light City seemed to have. He reminded Savior of Gil Grissom from _CSI_, in general facial structure and hairstyle anyway.

So what was the problem? Savior had a feeling…

"I don't like you people." Chesbro said calmly, without any trace of prejudice in his voice. The type that disliked something but managed to live with it if he had to.

"Excuse me?" Terra said. The blonde haired earthshaker was the only Titan currently with Savior outside City Hall. Scalpel, before they had headed to the police station, had put in a call to his girlfriend Sophie, thinking ahead that they might need her. Once they had been "partnered" with Chesbro, the group had headed for City Hall, partly to get permission for a few things and partly to see exactly why he had been called here (the obvious aside. Savior wanted to know if there were any ulterior motives in this city asking for help to get the vigilante known as Cauterize neutralized. Savior was already seeing a whole bunch. He grimaced slightly: this problem was going to stink to high heaven…).

"Hold on Terra. Don't get mad. Yet." Savior said, gesturing with an arm. "You don't like us. Care to be more specific? You don't like us metahumans? Superheroes? Teenagers? Something else?"

"A and B, mostly." Chesbro replied from where he was leaning on his car, a Chevy that was actually it pretty good condition, all things considered. His pose was relaxed but alert. He was a good cop, who always kept one eye and ear open for potential danger. When you worked as a police officer, especially in a city that had shown metahuman and supercriminal activity, it was important.

"Ok. Will it affect our working relationship?"

"I don't think so."

"Ok then." Savior said, and would have left it at that. Terra, however, did not.

"Why?" she asked. Chesbro looked at her.

"Do you children actually think you're doing the world any good?"

"Please don't bring up the Final Night, The Last Wish, or the End of Metal incidents. We did all we could with those and quite frankly I'm tired…" Terra began.

"Not just that young lady. Just about everything you do. You don't seem to understand how…well, ADULT the world is."

"Define adult." Savior said calmly. His all white outfit and hair was drawing stares from some passerby.

"Look…I had to work for this. I studied my whole life to understand the intricacies of criminal investigation. These days…it's a very difficult process, mostly due to people who take the idea of reforming and probable cause too far. It's hard enough to convict criminals when we have people pulling out a labyrinth of obscure and outright ridiculous knowledge and facts to try and get them back on the street. Everyone deserving a fair defense noted, of course." Chesbro said. His speech had no accusations or ranting, just calm statements. Of course, whether that meant that Chesbro was a very level individual or just kept the violent part of emotions that all humans possessed tightly locked down remained to be seen. Savior made a mental note to keep an eye open for the latter. When you repressed things, nothing good came of it. The feelings never went away, and the longer they remained under lock and guard and in the dark, the more twisted and overpowering they became.

It made one wonder, was Cauterize like that? An aspect that had been locked away for so long that when it had emerged, it had taken a life unto itself? Possibly to the point of split personalities? Savior hadn't been there, but he had heard from Raven about Marissa Mori and her alternate personality Zia, who was violently homicidal and had wrecked havoc in her guise of the perception-warping Eyesore…

Chesbro was still talking. Savior filed that pondering to the back of his head to be examined later.

"You…superheroes…"

"I don't like that name myself." Savior said.

"Noted. When your kind, if I may say so, are dealing with normal human criminals, all you seem to think about is the glory part. Jump in, throw a few punches, pose for the cameras, and leave. You don't have any knowledge and regard for the really hard stuff. In fact, more often then not you wreck crime scenes, destroying or tainting evidence, hell, in some cases even leaving enough of your own bits and pieces that YOU could be convicted of the crime. And even if we excuse that, there is also the fact that most of you can't or won't be called upon to offer testimony, either because of the whole secret identities spiel or the fact you're too busy pulling cats from trees."

"Duly noted. Are you suggesting we should only tackle metahuman and psychotic mastermind criminals, or are you going to bring up the usual argument for that too?" Savior asked.

"Which is?"

"You surely know. "We bring our own kind." The argument that superheroes cause more problems then they solve because they either lead to the appearance of villains to match them or subconsciously deliver challenges to opponents to face them which results in the usual chaos and destruction and the running and the screaming and god forbid the loss of innocent lives…is that it?"

"Somewhat."

"Noted. Detective Chesbro, you might find the concept hard if not impossible to believe, but despite this…" Savior said as the Shimmer emerged from his hand and moved around a bit before sliding back in. "I'm still human. I understand that we do…it has flaws. We make mistakes. We probably don't do things as well as they could be done. But we try, detective. You can look at all the criminals who found loopholes and technicalities in the law and walked free due to our involvement, and you can focus on the massacres we haven't been able to prevent…but if you do, it's fair game for me to attack the corruption in your department and local government you haven't tried to stop and every single man or woman you have failed in some way in the course of you doing your duty to the best of your ability. Every sword is doubled-edged, detective. In the end, I consider two things. One, we've done a lot more good for this world then bad in the end, and two, we're not going away. So either live with us, or lump it. We're here to stay."

Silence.

"Why are we waiting here anyway?" Chesbro asked, as if the previous conversation had never taken place.

And then he appeared. Had the three of them not been so wrapped up in their exchange, they might have heard the slight buzzing noise as Beast Boy flew over as a fly. But they didn't, and hence his sudden appearance was quite startling. Chesbro even started to go for his gun.

"Intelligence." Savior said. "What did you see Beast Boy?"

"What kind of intelligence are we talking about here?" Chesbro asked.

"The kind that one needs in this situation. As you know, I wanted to meet the mayor mostly to get his permission to officially work with you in the various levels, so we could have unrestricted access to evidence and such. It's why my teammate Scalpel is gone: he's a doctor, and his girlfriend, who should be here by now, is an undertaker. The two of them are going to examine Cauterize's victims, or what we can get. It might help us with some insight. But I also wanted to get an idea just who is in charge around here…" Savior said.

He remembered Mayor Tercero, and the one word that came to Noel's mind when he had first seen him: PHONY. The man had tried to act like Savior was a dear friend, as if he was honored to be in Savior's presence…and the whole thing rang hollow to Savior from the beginning. If Mayor Tercero were such a great person, he would have just called the Titans directly, instead of calling in a favor from the police chief. Such subterfuge suggested much, and after seeing Tercero, Savior had suspected it even more. Tercero was a politician to the core, and Savior LOATHED politicians. They were wind-testers, going in whatever direction the people indicated, going back and forth on decisions depending on who wanted it more (or more accurately, who paid them more), They had no character or fortitude. They were not LEADERS. Savior respected leaders, even if they had ultimately led their country over a cliff.

Tercero had not an iota of leadership, so Savior, having worked it out beforehand with Beast Boy, had given him a signal, and the group had seemed to leave. Except Beast Boy hadn't: he'd turned into a fly and gone back to listen to what Mayor Tercero said when they weren't around.

"Report Beast Boy?"

"Not ten seconds after you were gone, the guy was on the phone. Said he had the situations handled, that the "freaks" were here and they'd do what he said, and then he and whoever was on the other end could continue their "deal". He also made several crude sexual comments about Terra to his deputy mayor and wondered if he was going to get sued by letting "that mutant" examine the bodies. I assume he meant Scalpel." Beast Boy said. Terra looked offended.

"Why that…"

"Save it Terra, he's not worth it." Savior said. "Well guys, it's official. SOMEONE wants to use us. We are not going to be used. We stop Cauterize, and maybe then we'll hang around and see if there's anything else we can do. I assume that is ok with you, Detective Chesbro, unless you're working for them, in which case I warn you, you better leave right now, or if you choose to stay, not betray us. The deepest circle of hell is reserved for traitors, and I'll make damn sure you get a taste of what's to come if you screw us over."

"I'm not working for any of Tercero's people. Believe me." Chesbro said.

"Let's hope we can. Beast Boy, who was he talking to?"

"Didn't catch it all. I believe he called him 'Mr. Pierce.'"

"Ok then. Detective, who exactly is Mr. Pierce?"

"Stephen Pierce is one of the great things about this city, a shining beacon that attracts peace and prosperity." Chesbro said.

Savior blinked.

"Do you actually expect us to buy that?"

"If you choose to. A lot of other people have." Chesbro said, and left it at that. Savior understood why. It wasn't so much fear as it was…caution. _And if this Stephen Pierce has his fingers that deep into this city that even Detective Chesbro won't openly criticize him…this problem just acquired a brand new stench._

"All right then." Savior said. "Hopefully Scalpel is examining the body by now. Beast Boy, I want you to do aerial reconnaissance around the city. We don't know the terrain very well yet. I know, it's boring. Trust me, ok?" Savior said, cutting off Beast Boy's predicted complaint. The green-skinned teen shrugged and turned into a hawk, flying off into the sky.

"Terra, you're with me. Detective, how many high schools are there in this city?"

"Four."

"What's the biggest one?"

"The official one, Light City High. It's in the suburbs."

"Take us there." Savior said, as he opened the door and indicated for Terra to get in.

"Uh…Savior…what are we doing?"

"Preliminary reports on Cauterize are sketchy, but they seem to agree that it's someone young, from their teens to mid-twenties. I think it's someone from mid to late teenage years. So we're going to the source of such people to see if anything jumps out at us. That's why I made Beast Boy do the surveying. Forgive me for saying it, but you and I look a tad more normal."

"Yeah, except our costumes are going to make us stick out like sore thumbs."

"That why we're going clothes shopping first. Chesbro, take us to the nearest clothing store."

"Let's get one thing straight: I'm not your chauffeur."

"Yes, but you also said no one drives your car except you, and we're not going to go swinging and flying around town getting lost and making a scene. Now please hurry. We have no idea when Cauterize will strike again, and considering how fast he moves, he could be done before we hear anything."

* * *

The head coroner of Light City, Dr. Peter Radney, was examining the tools that the alien known as Scalpel had brought with him.

When he had first seen the figure, with his "negative photograph" features combined with his crazy fashion sense, and had heard he was a doctor, he had expected all kinds of strange incomprehensible tools that probably looked like broken parts from one of H.R Giger's artworks. Instead, he found Scalpel's tools weren't much different from his own, modified to fit the alien's sharp appendages of course.

"Doctor, could you bring those over please?" asked Scalpel's companion, the undertaker known as Sophie Matthews. Scalpel had met her at the morgue and the two had gone in with their paperwork that said they could examine the bodies. Part of Dr. Radney had been insulted at the concept that he was being pushed aside so some alien teenager member of a superhero team could do his job, but another part of him was relieved, as he could now handle the huge backup that had been building during the spring. A lot of suicides. That seemed to be happening a lot more lately.

Nigel and Sophie had removed the top layers of the suits they usually wore and were now wearing green gowns, shower caps, and masks to prevent contamination of the evidence and filter out the terrible smells that dead bodies usually made. Dr. Radney delivered their tools and excused himself to work on another body at the other end of the large, cool room. An officer from the police station was nearby, seemingly to watch the process for some reason, evidence most likely, but he was keeping his distance. Probably because of the stench, Nigel mused. Probably.

Sophie was about to remove the sheet covering the body before she suddenly winced.

"Sophie? You ok?" Nigel asked. Sophie gave Nigel a look that was some embarrassment, part amusement, with just a slight dusting of resentment.

"You should know." She said. Nigel looked a bit confused. She gave him a slight smile.

"Nigel…next time we're together…wear gloves."

The bewilderment on Nigel's face lasted another second before he got it, and he blushed furiously.

"Can we not speak of such things in such a place?"

"Dr. Radney is busy and our police friend is occupied with not trying to throw up. And it's a point that has to be made, Mr. Pointy." Sophie said. Nigel blushed again.

"Can we please move on to business?"

"Of course darling." Sophie said with a tone that was mostly bemused "other" with just a tad of edge, as she drew back the sheet that had previously covered the body up to the neck. It was the man known as Idjit 2, who Cauterize had cut in half, and whose halves now lay on the gurney. Sophie put the sheet away and turned on the tape recorder.

"First recording. I am Sophie Matthews, assisting me in this autopsy is Doctor, er, Scalpel, from the Jump City metahuman team known as the Teen Titans. Both our credentials are listed in Jump City Records. We are examining the body of one Bailey Bennie, who was killed by the vigilante Cauterize due to his association with the Pranker, identity yet to be confirmed. Cause of death is apparently violent trauma to the midsection that resulted in a complete separation between the upper and lower halves of his body. Beginning the examination."

And so Nigel and Sophie began to poke around in the section of the body where Bailey had been "eviscapitated". Scalpel took one of his namesakes and began cutting at the lower half's burned tissue, checking to see how deep he had to go before he hit undamaged flesh. It took him nearly an inch and a half…which was considerable.

"Subject's veins were sealed shut by intense heat, preventing any blood from escaping the body and causing extreme livity." Scalpel said, indicating the condition on how the blood, after the heart has ceased pumping, would be drawn by gravity to settle to the lowest part of the body it could depending on the position, causing what looked like extreme bruising. This was helpful in determining time of death, but they didn't need to know that: the also not yet identified Japanese girl called Giggles had given them a precise time after she had managed to calm down with help from a victim's advocate. "Heat source was reported to be super-intense friction, caused by the killer's ability to move at incredibly high speeds while keeping such things under his control."

"Spinal column has been cleanly severed, indicating a speed that was able to negate any resistance." Sophie said. She wasn't surprised. They had been plenty of cases of things going through other things due to them being propelled at high speeds, usually intense winds. 2 by 4's through trees, aluminum siding impaled through car doors, marbles through people…

Sophie began feeling along the cooked flesh of the upper half of Bailey with a gloved finger.

"Look at this Scalpel."

"What?"

"This wound is almost as smooth as glass. I don't think there are any variants in the cut at all."

"What does that mean?"

"Cutting parts off humans is more difficult then it sounds. Even if you succeed, it often takes multiple strikes, or at least a blow that won't be perfectly straight. The very slight muscle twitches of the human body will usually make sure the wound will be ragged in some way. The only way you get such smooth incisions is through some kind of surgical technique."

"So Cauterize might be a doctor?"

"Not necessarily. His ability to move like he does negates a few things we would normally use when examining cuts…but this wound…look…" Sophie said, taking Nigel's scalpel. "If what I'm seeing is right…when he made the cut…he didn't cut like this…" Sophie repeatedly waved the scalpel up and down in a hacking motion. "Or this…" She thrust the scalpel in a horizontal line to the right and then moved her hand farther right and sliced it back towards the left. "It was one complete, smooth, cut." Sophie said, slashing the scalpel in front of her in a perfect line. "Now, this might be less important if the killer had a long blade, but witnesses have claimed that Cauterize's swords are not that long, maybe a foot at most. Cutting a human in half while wielding something like a claymore is easier done, even at normal speed. But to do such a perfect cut at high speed with a shorter blade…it's clear that Cauterize knows something about such things."

"You mean training?"

"Of some kind at least. Might be self-taught training. Whatever it may be, it's pretty clear he didn't start doing this last week. He's prepared himself. Possibly quite a bit." Sophie said. "Let's examine the wound some more. I want to see if I can find any traces of metal."

Ninety minutes passed while the two worked on the body. In the end, they came up with nothing.

"I think this confirms my suspicions on preparation. If Cauterize had just made them nice looking swords, moving them at that speed would generate INTENSE heat. More then just enough to seal the huge wound this cutting caused shut perfectly. It would have actually caused the metal to melt a bit. Not just melt, VAPORIZE. In any case, there would have been some trace of metal in the tissue if he had just whipped up a pair of swords. But there's nothing."

"Which means?"

"Which means that he's definitely done his homework on his abilities. From what you told me about super speed, you have to use it properly, or get gear that allows you certain allowances when moving like that. The Flash has a special costume that negates friction, for example, which keeps his clothes from bursting into flame when he's running at high speed."

"But doesn't the manipulation of such a talent also guard against these things?"

"Possibly, but even if he had learned how to negate the friction, it would have to do the tricky balancing act of doing it enough to make the cut the way he did without damaging the blade, and even with the ability to think at high speed, moving at such a pace would ensure he's slip up SOMEWHERE, just a bit, and would have damaged the blade anyway…unless he designed the weapons to specifically function at that level of intense resistance."

"Which means not only can he move at super speed, he knows HOW to move."

"Intimately. Which could be very dangerous Scalpel. It's bad when you have an angry metahuman with superhuman abilities…but this one has planned out how to use them ahead of time. Quite a bit, I might gather."

"So how bad is that?"

Scalpel and Sophie jumped at the sudden new voice, and turned to see a strange man standing there. He was wearing old, worn clothes, and his face and head were covered in a breathing mask and shower cap, respectively, guarding his features. Later, Scalpel noticed the police officer had left, probably quickly.

"Who are you?" Scalpel asked.

"Oh, sorry. You only saw me briefly. I'm the Deputy Mayor, Roman Fernendez. The mayor sent me to see how you were doing." Roman said, offering his hand. Scalpel just stared at it, and Roman withdrew it. "Right, probably can't shake hands at the moment. Just a courtesy. So, besides that Cauterize appears to have been preparing for this, have you learned anything?"

"Why are you wearing such ratty clothes if you're the Deputy Mayor?" Sophie asked.

"Because this place has a smell that gets into your clothes, so I wear old worn out ones. Those suits are expensive you know, can't have them smelling like bodies do when they stop working."

"Point." Sophie said, turning back to Bailey's body. "Our full report is on that tape, you can probably get a copy from the police department…"

"Is it possible you can give me a rundown now?"

"I suppose. Remember, autopsies are usually for determining cause of death. In this case, we had a witness that saw the exact cause. We wanted to see the body to see if we could determine anything about the actual killer."

"So, besides the fact that he's prepared, what else did you find?"

"Not much." Scalpel said. "It looks like he has some knowledge, at least, of metals and blades, as he was able to design a weapon that could cut at super speed without being damaged. That suggests special kinds of material, not just for his weapons but also for his actual outfit. Even if you try and control your own friction, your clothes can still be at risk. If you get special kinds of clothing however, you don't have to worry. I would assume the black one-way mirror-esque material that makes a good part of Caurterize's helmet is special stuff as well."

"So we could possibly trace the sales of such materials?" Roman said.

"I doubt it. Even if your city had access to such stuff, it would be very expensive. I suppose Cauterize could just steal money to pay for it…but why do that when you can just steal the stuff itself? Hell, considering his potential intelligence, I doubt he got the material here. As fast as he could go, he could swipe the helmet materials in Metropolis, the textiles in Opal City, and the metals for the blades in Keystone and be back within an hour, probably less."

"I see." Roman said. "Well, from the evidence you have here, can you manage to puzzle out how fast he was going? It might help if we know if he has a cap on his abilities."

"I don't know very much about the Speed Force…but I'll try…" Sophie said, as she picked up the notes she had made. "Scalpel, your help please?"

A few minutes later, Sophie was at a computer and doing calculations.

"Ok…considering the depth of the burn…the amount of heat needed to burn so deep with the microsecond the heat was there…how much friction would be needed to generate that heat…considering the various alternate ways reality works when moving at high speed…"

Sophie and Scalpel puzzled over the mathematics of it for fifteen minutes.

"Ok." She finally said. "This is VERY rough and probably way off the mark…but my calculations show he was probably moving at, give or take several hundred…13,500 miles."

"13,500 miles an HOUR?" Roman said incredulously.

"No. 13,500 miles…a MINUTE."

Roman looked floored.

"Can…they actually move that fast?" he said.

"There have been stories of Speed Force users breaking the speed of light, of going so fast they cross time and space. And even if Cauterize can't go that fast…" Scalpel said. "Well, the Flash has been said to have cracked light speed. Let's say Cauterize can move, at maximum, a rough quarter of that speed…that's still the ability to move at 46,500 miles…a second."

Silence.

Roman took a deep breath, clearly trying to stay calm.

"In the time it takes us to blink, he could go around the world twice?"

"Possibly. This is just a theory. He might he able to go even faster."

Roman took another deep breath and put his hand on the wall.

"How do we stop something like that?"

"With a great deal of difficulty." Scalpel replied simply.

* * *

"Now…let me get this straight…you're Teen Titans?" said Principal Kelvin Tugwell, a man in his late forties. He had dull red hair that had gone mostly gray, an average face, a slight gut, and a rather nice suit, whose jacket was hanging on the back of his chair.

"Yes." Savior said. He and Terra were sitting in the principal's officer at Light City High, although no longer in their costumes. Noel was wearing black slacks with a turtleneck and a baseball cap, and Terra was in red jeans and a red T-Shirt that said "If you're reading this, stop staring you pervert."

"Um…do you have any proof?"

Noel took off his baseball cap to reveal his spiky, gravity defying white hair.

"That's unusual, I'll give you that, but that doesn't prove you're…"

Terra waved her hand, and the school office floor vibrated a little.

"…Ok, that's enough. So, why are you here?"

"As you might have heard, a vigilante has been operating in your city."

"Yes. Cut-up or something?"

"Cauterize."  
"Yes, I heard. He murdered the chief of police. Terrible…" Tugwell said, closing his eyes as if recalling something. Whether it was found memories or foul, Savior didn't know. "But that still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Evidence is showing a strong possibility that Cauterize is in his teens. We came here to ask you if you had anyone who might stand out as a suspect."

"Why here?"

"You're first in the line. Just a hunch." Savior said.

Tugwell was silent, as a sudden blush of embarrassment spread on his face.

"Um…I'm not sure if I can help you."

"You don't have to go out and point fingers Mr. Tugwell. If you don't have any strong suspects that come to mind, just say so. You aren't paid to be a detective." Savior said, recalling that Chesbro was sitting in the car, listening to the radio and waiting for them. He wondered how long Chesbro would wait.

"Well um…Mr…um…"

"Savior."

"Savior…you have to understand something…it's been very difficult lately."

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Savior…I've been here for seventeen years…and for ten of those years I've been surprised this place is still here. Our esteemed mayor…he's not very big on education…"

Savior's face darkened again. The corruption was everywhere. No wonder someone like Cauterize had popped up.

"You have to understand…a lot of the funds…go to…other people…you know…"

"Yeah. I have an notion."

"I have to fight for every scrap of funding I can get. I have to negotiate for 12 hours every day, most of the time, to make sure that our teachers aren't all blathering incompetents or numb defeatists, that our school can have at least some things that have information from the past twenty years. It's very hard, Mr. Savior…and I'm sorry, but I don't have time to get to know the student body. At all. And my staff…it's the same for a lot of them. They're here because they have a love and a belief…and I'm afraid that might not last much longer, Mr. Savior. We used to have a great football team, which was something for this city to rally around…but that was a while ago. And our last hope…that was taken away last year. I fear…I'm just delaying the inevitable…but I'm not going to go quietly into the night. And I'm not sure if you understand that responsibility…but it takes all I have, Mr. Savior. I'm afraid…I don't know anything. I don't have it."

There was silence.

And then Savior reached out and took Tugwell's hand, which was on the desk.

"I'll do what I can. We all will. I promise."

"Thank you…but I don't think your good intentions can do more then add more bricks in our road to hell."

"You might be surprised how often I've seen that supposed inexorableness. Well, thank you for your help Mr. Tugwell. We'll be going now…" Savior said as he started getting up.

"Wait…I wasn't quite finished yet."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I can't help you…but…I might know someone who can. If anyone knows the coming and goings of this school, it's him. But if you speak to him…don't mention I sent you. He might have some…resentment towards me."

Savior contemplated asking, and decided not to. He'd had enough of seeing the knives people stuck in each other's backs around here.

* * *

The teenager had shrunk.

Or so it seemed, as to anyone paying attention, it was clear he was wearing clothes that were far too big for him. His jeans were clearly sewn at the waist and ankles, and his shirt, had it not been pinned back or rolled up, probably would have reached his knees. He had curly brown hair, VERY curly hair, to the point where the curls roiled off his head, forming a somewhat afro-esque shape. He had thin and rather weak features, and to top it all off, he was wearing glasses. All he needed to complete the nerd image was some suspenders and a pocket protector. He had neither, and since his glasses were shades, he didn't look too bad.

He was looking through his locker when Terra approached him.

"Excuse me…"

The teenager looked at her, noting her presence and nothing else.

"Are you Elijah Versaw?"

"Yes. What would you like help with?" Elijah replied, turning back to his locker and rummaging through it. Terra looked confused.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. You are talking to me for some other reason then help with schoolwork? That's not a common occurrence for me." Elijah said, as he withdrew a few binders and closed the locker.

"What do you mean?" Terra asked, her request momentarily forgotten.

"Oh, sorry again. I'm afraid I've been exposed to the hierarchy of the school system too long. I looked at you, a lovely woman, and since you're over here talking to me, you either want my help with schoolwork or you want to set me up for something, and people stopped doing the second awhile ago because I never gave them any good reactions. Lovely women don't talk to "my kind" for any other reason, do they?" Elijah said. Despite the verbiage, he didn't sound angry or bitter, just mostly resigned. A bit like Chesbro actually.

"Anyway, I'm sorry if I was rude. Can I help you?"

"Yes…my friend and I would like to speak with you."

"You are aware I was pulled a month ago and even if I did write it, it would never make it in. The Powers That Be didn't like what I was saying, after all, and you know what happens when they're displeased."

"What are you talking about?" Terra asked.

"Hmm, you are a unique one. What's your name?"

"Terra."

"Terra? Where have…" Elijah said, and then snapped his fingers. "Of course. I thought you looked familiar. You're one of those metahumans from Jump City."

"Why yes…I am."

"Hmm, there's something you don't see every day. What happened? You get kicked off and want to start a normal life somewhere else? If so I suggest a hair dye…"

"No no no. Some of my teammates are here, in Light City. We're on a mission…and we were told you could possibly help."

"Me? Well, I don't know. I know a thing or seven, but how can I help a superhero?"

"We're still human. We're not gods." Came Savior's voice, as he walked up behind Terra. He had wanted Terra to make initial contact because she stood out less then him, but since Elijah wasn't acting like some screaming fanboy that the Teen Titans were in the school, Noel decided it would be good to approach. Elijah looked at him.

"Ah. I believe it was Savior, correct?"

"Yes. How can I help you?"

"Before we discuss anything, is there any place we can talk in private? I don't want someone recognizing us and causing a scene."

"Sure, follow me." Elijah said, closing his locker and spinning the combination lock. Holding his binders close, he walked down the hallway, turned, walked to the end of the next hallway, turned left, and walked four doors down until they came to a door that said _Light City Shining._

"This is the office for the school newspaper. We can talk in private here." Elijah said as he opened the door, revealing a small room with a very worn leather couch, a small printing press hooked up to an old computer, and a few other anachronistic devices placed next to carefully stacked piles of paper, ink cartridges, and all the other things needed to make a small newspaper. At the other end of the room was a door that said Editor, under which was a name written on with tape that said "Marco Corber". Elijah walked into the room, reaching up and removing the clip-on shades part of his glasses, revealing a pair of clear and sharp blue eyes. He slipped the clip-ons into a pocket. Despite the bookish features, Terra mused, he didn't look half bad. Maybe he was too hard on himself when it came to his idea of women only planning to mock him.

"Um, are you sure we'll allowed in here?" She asked.

"Oh certainly, no problem." Elijah said. He was sitting down on the couch when the Editor's door opened and a fat head peered out.

"Elijah, is that…oh, did you invite some friends?" the teen said. While not exactly ugly, the teenager's squinting eyes, overweight body, and slight but noticeable unpleasant smell didn't exactly give a favorable impression.

"Not exactly Marco. They wanted to speak to me."  
"Ohhh, on a hot scoop Eli? Well, good luck!" Marco chuckled and closed the door.

"Who was that guy?" Terra asked.

"The new school newspaper editor. At least in theory. I still do all the work. Come up with the articles, write them, and put them together. He helps with the printing sometimes, but mostly he sits in his office looking at porn and taking credit for my work."

"How did that happen?" Terra asked.

"Oh, the usual. I was the editor since my sophomore year, but I, shall we say, stepped on too many toes. I called things like I saw them, and apparently they didn't want that. They wanted fluff and nonsense, so I was, you might say, asked to step down so that a new editor could be appointed. I'm not sure if they appointed Marco to teach him how to do a job like this or because his incompetence was so great it would quickly lead to the newspaper closing down. The fact that he didn't notice that two superheroes were in the lounge makes that pretty clear. In any case, the other reporters quit…but I stayed on. In secret of course. One of those kind of secrets that everyone knows."

"And you allow this?"

"What can I do? Complain? No one will listen. No one can, any more. Don't worry. It's a bad situation, but it's just one phase of my life. I graduate this year. I'll sure I'll be able to find someone that respects and needs journalistic integrity."

"I think that's an oxymoron." Savior said.

"Ah yes, I read you don't much like the media. Different strokes. Anyway, how can I help you?"

"Do you know anything about Speed Force users?" Savior asked.

"Say what now?" Elijah replied. Savior made a pointed mental comment to himself that not everyone studied superheroes and explained to Elijah what he knew about the Speed Force and Cauterize. Elijah sat and absorbed the info, occasionally making a note in his binder.

"All right…I think I have an idea. You're saying that people can tap this dimension and use it to move really fast and do other speed tricks…but how does one go about tapping this dimension? Is there anything specific?" Elijah asked.

"Well, there's never been a set reason or way to tap it. Impulse, er, Kid Flash now, was born with the ability to tap the Speed Force…but others have stumbled across it. One of them found the dimension after spending all night breathing hard water fumes. Another got splashed with electrified chemicals. Johnny and Jenny Quick tapped the Speed Force by reciting a mathematical formula. Others have found other ways. There are potentially a million paths to tapping this power, I suppose."

"Right then. Do you think that someone could tap it…through sheer determination?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, while you were talking, I was reminded of something. Did either of you see the _Animatrix?_"

"I did." Terra said.

"Well, remember that one episode, what was it called, _World Record?_ Where the sprinter at the Olympics was so determined to surpass his limits that he actually managed to break through the fantasy world the machines had him locked it and saw reality as it was? Do you think that someone could tap the Speed Force for a similar reason?"

"It's possible."

"Well then…I've been thinking it over. Cauterize supposedly wants this place to be a "nice town" again, which I assume means going back to the time when we were popular with the tourists, and he's willing to kill people to get his desire. If I consider that with desperately wanting to surpass your limits as a possible way to tap the Speed Force…I might just have a suspect for you."

* * *

He lay crouched on the ground in the runner's stance, his muscles taunt and his body sweating and dusty. His shorts and shirt had large sweat patches on it, and his exertion had clumped his slightly below shoulder length blond hair into dripping strands. Peering out from behind the strands were the handsome features and the intense brown eyes of a hardcore athlete. A runner.

Nearby, another teen with similar looks, abet with some more muscle and closely cut black hair, raised his arm and snapped it down, and the blonde burst from his position and sprinted down the line of the small track near the school, his body exploding with energy, as if he was running for his life. And in a way, he was.

"There he is. Toby Garigen. One time shining star of this school, reduced to also-ran status. Or so it may seem. Toby is determined to prove Mother Nature wrong." Elijah said as Toby ran past them in the distance, crossing past the black haired teen whose arm was out, holding something. Savior assumed it was a stopwatch.

"What's his story?" Savior asked as Toby stopped, rested for a bit, and then trotted back to his friend/teammate/timekeeper/something.

"This school used to have a great football team, but a combination of budget problems and a drug scandal pretty much destroyed those glory days. But this city needs something to rally behind, and ultimately Toby was the one picked."

Toby suddenly burst out into loud yelling, though the distance kept the group from making out the words. He seemed angry, though not with his timekeeper, who was trying to calm him down.

"Toby was a sprinter, and one hell of a one too. His first year he was here, he broke every record the school had, then broke them all over again. People were drawn to him, and his track meets began to draw huge crowds. Toby was talented and disciplined, but he was also a showboater who loved to have his ego stroked, and this did it, big time. By his third year there was talk of putting together a collection so they could send Toby to the Olympics…and then in the middle of the third he tripped on a pebble during a meet and tore his calf muscle right off the bone. It was a pretty bad injury, and the doctors said that even if it healed, it wouldn't have the proper tightness or something for him to match his glory days. Toby would have none of it, of course. He healed up and began to train himself back to his running weight…but the crowds had left him. In a way, I think, they felt betrayed by Toby's sudden fall, which wasn't his fault, and he honestly didn't deserve it, but that's the way people are."

"Oh yeah." Terra said.

"Toby was held back a year due to his injury, but I think he prefers that. He's out here virtually every day, ever seen he was told he could run again, trying to force his body back into the way it was. He'll run for hours on end, and then come back the next day and do it again. He's determined to show the people that he's not just as good as he was before, he's better…"

Toby had, by now, trotted back over to the starting point. Noel thought he heard something about "bad start" as he headed past and re-resumed the position.

"Thing is…I don't think the people are going to listen. They put their faith in Toby, put in him their dreams that had been robbed of and lost, and he let them down. That kind of wound never really heals…"

The timekeeper waved his hand again, and Toby exploded off the end. It was clear this time he'd erupted on all cylinders, as he sprinted down the track even faster this time.

"So you can probably see why I'd consider him a possible suspect. Toby lives to run, can't live without running…and I can see him pushing past the brink and finding something else. And considering the fact that he resents the way people once worshipped him and then abandoned him…I can see him taking out his rage on the town."

Toby crossed the finish line and stopped, then turned back to his timekeeper. This time, he seemed relatively pleased, clapping the timekeeper on the back.

"Well…what do you think?" Elijah said.

"I'm weighing Occam's Razor against the fact that life loves to screw with my kind." Savior said, his thumb and forefinger slightly gripping his chin.

"Whatever the case, thank you for your help Elijah. If you're right, maybe we'll let you interview us." Terra said. Elijah turned towards Terra, and hence didn't see the semi-shocked look that came over Savior's face.

"You'd do that?"

"Oh sure. I mean…" Terra said, ignoring the way Savior was now waving his hands in the expression of "Stop!" "You clearly want to be a reporter, and every reporter needs a big break, and what could be better if you could…" Noel was now slashing his finger across his throat. "Interview some superheroes, including one that regularly spits on the media?" Terra said, indicating Savior. Savior managed to switch his body language before Elijah turned around again.

"You would actually do that?"

"Uh…we'll see how the Cauterize case pans out. For now…" Savior said. "Terra, maybe we should discuss something."

"Because that would be incredible! I could write my own ticket with an interview like that! Everyone always wants to know about superheroes! I mean, people friggen obsess about them…" Elijah babbled.

"Now you've done it." Savior said as he walked off with Terra, Elijah following them as he continued to spew his excitement.

None of them noticed the dark look that was being given to them behind the sweaty blonde locks of Toby Garigen.

* * *

"I'm sorry about my outburst back there. I don't usually behave like that." Elijah said. He had trailed the two back to the school, where the two had let themselves in through the gym entrance (the men's locker room was closer, but Terra refused to walk through there with a blindfold on and so the three had had to wander around until they had found an entrance in the gym itself. "I mean I…whoops!" Elijah said, as he stepped on his own pants cuff and lost his balance, stumbling a bit before he put his hand out to balance himself. Terra took a step back to see if he was ok.

"Nothing wrong, I'm fine." He said.

"Why are you wearing such ridiculously large clothes anyway?"

"My financial situation…has been pretty bad as of late. To afford some things, I had to sacrifice other things. These belonged to my dad, who was a big man. It's inconvenient, but I'm willing to make sacrifices for my life." Elijah said, straightening the loose cuff out. "Now, as I was saying, sorry about that outburst…"

"Understandable. Everyone has his or her moments. You should have seen Savior here when he met Superman." Terra said.

"Hey, you weren't much better." Savior jibed back.

"Well yeah. It's Superman. And no Elijah, I don't think we can get you an interview with him." Terra said.

"I wasn't even going to ask." Elijah replied.

"Elijah! There you are!"

Walking up the hallway was a girl. Savior slipped his hat back on and wasn't prepared to pay much attention…until she noticed she was Asian.

_The vigilante seemed to have some kind of weird sexual fetish for the victim…did not actually harm her but tore off her clothes and spoke on how he'd like to, at the least, have sex with her…_

"Hey Kei. What's going on?" Elijah

"I got a B in my history exam!" she said, in a kind of reticent excitement.

"Good! I knew you were worried about that." Elijah said. Up close, the Japanese girl was revealed to be a tad bit drab. She wore a shapeless dress and had her eyes behind thick glasses, her hair tied in a very tightly wound ponytail behind her. She was carrying a book bag with a few buttons on it. Savior saw two. One said "Fight Bad Spellers" underneath one that said "Shave the Whales." Noel half smirked and half groaned inwardly.

"Oh, um…Kei, this is um…Sam and Tara." Elijah said, indicating Savior and Terra, and Savior smirked inwardly at Terra's look of attempted concealed shock as Elijah inadvertently used her real name. "Guys, this is Kei Mickiko, who once identified the American Revolution as "A type of fish"."

"Oh that's a lie you jerk!" Kei said, hitting Elijah on the arm.

"Good evening miss." Savior said.

"Heya girlfriend." Terra said, instinctively friendly.

"Kei here is my personal thorn. She ignores me until she has trouble with something, and then she won't leave me alone until…" Elijah began.

And then the door Elijah was standing next to suddenly swung open, slamming into Elijah's front so hard it actually knocked him down, scattering his binders to the floor.

"Hey!" Savior said, as Kei made a strange alarmed noise.

"I'm ok…" Elijah said, trying to get up.

"Oh I'm sorry! What did I….oh, it's YOU."

From behind the door, now dressed in a track suit and with his wet hair combed back, Toby Garigen emerged.

"Did I break something? I hope so."

"Somehow Toby, I doubt you just swung the door out that hard with the random hope that I might be behind it." Elijah said, getting up and adjusting his glasses. "I would think by now you would let bygones be bygones."

"In a pig's eye you fucker."

"Toby, I've said this before. It was an honest mistake."

"FUCK YOU! You ruined my life!"

"You're still here and still healthy. I hardly see how that qualifies as life-shattering." Savior said. Toby glared at Savior, but with his white hair tucked under his hat, he didn't seem to recognize him.

"You're obviously new. I saw you guys hanging out watching me. He spewing the usual shit about me?"

"Actually, he was talking about how hard you were working to recover your racing form."

"Oh really? Well then, this must be his evil twin, because no sooner was I in the hospital then he printed an article about me saying that I might be using steroids and that was what caused my injury!"

"First of all Toby, it was an opinion piece. I stated repeatedly I had no hard evidence. Two, at the time it looked pretty suspicious to me: you hadn't given any indication of weakness in your muscles before. Three, when a drug test revealed no trace of steroids, and you being in the hospital left it impossible for you to have faked the drug test, I printed a retraction in the very next issue and apologized profusely, saying I had been wrong. I even printed medical documents showing steroid-damaged muscle and how your injuries didn't match up. You can't really blame me Toby. You were a marvel, hell, a prodigy. And in this day and age, people don't look at people like you and say, "Wow, he's amazing", they look at you and say "He's obviously taking drugs". Those were my suspicions as well. But I was wrong Toby. You proved me wrong, without a doubt. Now, isn't that good enough?"

"No." Toby said, and shoved Elijah up against the lockers.

The hallways rang with a loud clang as Elijah slammed into them. Toby looked to be ready to follow up, except Savior got between him and Elijah.

"Ok buddy, you proved your point. You're angry, and you don't like him. But the past is the past. So focus on the future and get over yourself."

"You going to fight his battles for him?" Toby sneered.

"I don't know. He seems pretty satisfied with his masculinity. How about you? It's a clear sign that when you go after a weaker target you have doubts." Savior said.

Toby glared at Savior, and then stepped back. Savior stepped aside as Elijah got back up.

"Ok asshole, you get off easy this time. But next time, you won't have your bodyguard." Toby said. His gaze slid over to Kei, who had helped Elijah up. "And when are you going to quit your study of the nerds and come over here where you belong Kei?"

"Fuck you you asshole." Kei spat, surprising Terra. She hasn't seen the capacity for such venom in the Asian teenager…or was that just her own small prejudices talking?

"Yeah, whatever, keep denying your lust for me. I'm patient. I'll wait for you to come to your senses. Just remember…he might get you passing grades…but only I can truly appreciate someone like you." Toby said, and turned and left, heading back into the locker room.

"Bastard." Kei said.

"You can't really blame him. It's what he knows." Elijah said, pushing himself off the lockers and going to pick up his binders.

"You ok Elijah?" Terra asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. He mostly got my left foot when he opened the door." Elijah said, picking up the binders. He clearly winced when he straightened up and took a slight step. Toby really had nailed his foot pretty hard it seemed.

"What do you mean, it's what he knows?" Savior asked.

"Oh, Toby has, you might say, exotic tastes. He likes "different" women. You know, blacks, Hispanics, Asians…it's what floats his boat. And the old days when he was the darling of the town, he got used to women throwing themselves at him. Now that he's no longer the golden boy, that doesn't happen any more…but he still thinks it should. Let him have his delusion. Everyone deserves a little happiness. Even if it is in a figment of his imagination." Elijah said. "You need anything else, Sam, Tara?"

"No Elijah, I think we've gotten all the info we need. But in case we need to talk to you again, do you have a phone number or something…"

"Here." Elijah said, opening his binder and extracting a business card. "This has my home address and number. Just be careful who visits if you have to: my mother is fragile. If one of your more colorful members shows up, you could give her a real serious shock…and that would be bad. Ok?"

"All right. Thanks Elijah. See you around. Maybe." Savior said.

"And don't forget that interview you promised!"

"Oh yes, how COULD I?" Savior said, giving Terra a sidelongs glance. Terra looked sheepish.

* * *

Terra sighed as she walked along the field, wishing she could fly. Once they were out of the building, Noel had told her to go get Detective Chesbro (her punishment, most likely, for the whole interview offer) while he called Beast Boy and Scalpel to find out what they had learned and fill them in with what _they_ had learned. Only instead of finding a highly irritated Chesbro, she had found something else, and she figured she had better tell Savior. But Savior had moved from where they had parted, and hence Terra had been forced to hunt around for him, and she couldn't fly because she would attract attention.

And she was getting sick of looking. She'd walked around the school, and then tried looking in it. The only thing she had found was a classroom that was used for science classes and a male student who had gotten his hands stuck to a table via some concoction that had formed an incredibly powerful and foul smelling glue. Terra had almost tried to help, but in the end the science teacher had done it for her, as he poured what Terra had overheard was salt water on the glue, which had led to it dissolving. Terra had moved on then, and was now back outside.

She pondered Toby. True, it looked good…but then again, didn't that mean that Toby WASN'T Cauterize? Or maybe Occam's Razor really was in effect. In any case, they didn't have any proof. Hopefully it wouldn't take much, because all things considered…

And then she heard the thundering, and she turned to see the huge wall of dirty green uniforms charging headlong at her like a stampeding horde of bulls.

Terra almost ripped rocks out of the ground and smashed them, before she realized it wasn't a threat. Kind off. It was Light City High's football team, the Illuminati, clearly on some kind of training drill, and they weren't slowing down for anyone. Terra ran through her options, ruled them down to two, then ruled out getting trampled and was down to one.

She dove to the side, using a very subtle ground thrust underneath her to give her some extra distance, and managed to dodge the mad dash, barely. She rolled and came up on one knee. Not bad. All she'd gotten was a little muddy and highly annoyed, as the team was running on as if she hadn't been there.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!!!!!"

Terra started at the sudden yell, and turned around to see someone stomping towards her in the stride of the enraged.

When he arrived, Terra almost snickered. He was barely as tall as her. But he clearly had muscles, the kind that showed the determination to keep one's body ahead of time. He had a buzz cut so close to his skull it was hard to tell the exact color of his hair (dirty blonde, looked like) He had a bulldog face with mean little eyes, and he was stabbing a long finger in Terra's face.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON THE FIELD! ALL STUDENTS ARE BANNED DURING TRAINING TIME! CAN'T YOU FUCKING LISTEN!?!?!"

"Sorry…" Terra said, flustered.

"YES YOU ARE! WE DON'T NEED YOU DISTRACTING MY MEN, YOU BUBBLEHEADED WHORE! NOW GET THE FUCK OFF MY FIELD BEFORE I KICK YOUR LITTLE ASS OFF OF IT!"

Terra looked offended, and was about to respond when the man (the coach, she assumed), actually grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.

"I SAID GET!" he yelled, and then he slapped her hard on the ass.

The next second the earth erupted under his feet, throwing the coach off his feet and onto HIS ass. Terra turned around, her eyes intense.

"Touch me again, EVER, and I'll put you six feet under." Terra snarled.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" the coach screamed, scrambling up. Inside, Terra goggled. It was like he hadn't even noticed that Terra had moved the earth to toss him. Apparently, all he registered was the offense to his manhood. "NOBODY DOES THAT TO ME! I'LL…" the coach screamed, as he raised a hand. Terra's bewilderment increased: he was actually going to hit her!

He never did, of course. Terra would have stopped him, but she never got the chance, as a white line roped around the coach's upraised wrist and arm and yanked him back. The man slammed into Savior's chest, even as the teenage superhero coiled the arm not occupied with a Shimmer strand around the coach's throat and yanked the coach's arm back with the Shimmer even more.

"BACK OFF. RIGHT NOW." Savior said in an intense whisper. The coach opened his mouth to yell and found the Shimmer grabbing it and snapping it shut. On the other end of the field, the players had completed their drill and had turned around to see the end of this little scene. A ripple passed through them as they tried to figure out what was going on, and then with a few muffled yells ("They're attacking the coach!") they started heading for the three.

The coach yelled under his Shimmer gag, muffled shouts with no sense, as the football players closed in. Terra walked up, her eyes hard, demurring to Savior at the moment. He was leader of this team, and she knew he was a good tactician, for all situations.

"I suggest you tell your team to back off, or they'll find themselves buried up to their neck in dirt. Considering you're probably trying to return the team to the level of glory it once knew, I think that would be a real morale killer." Savior said, gesturing to Terra, who raised an arm in the direction of the team as her eyes glowed orangish-brown.

Savior gave the coach one last intense squeeze via the Shimmer, keeping just a hair away from the force that would have snapped his wrist, and then released the coach, as the football team closed in.

"What's going on Coach?" one of them asked. Two dozen angry teenagers glared at Savior and Terra. Savior wasn't much concerned. After tangling with such forces as Doomsday and Myth and his evil doppelganger Asphyxiation, angry teenage boys, even those with lots of muscle and testosterone, were low on his list of concerns.

"Just…a misunderstanding. Everything's fine." The coach said. Savior nodded. Good man. He knew when to back off.

Maybe.

"You sure?" asked another. Savior noted that it was Toby's timekeeper.

"YES! AND I DIDN'T ORDER A BREAK! BACK TO IT ASSHOLES, DOUBLE TIME!" The coach bellowed, and the team took off down the field again. He turned smoldering eyes back to Savior and Terra.

"Make sure you give them water breaks. I'd hate for one of them to die from the exertion, which would force me to come back here to arrest you for criminally negligent homicide." Savior said, and turned to leave. Terra fell into step beside him, leaving the furious coach behind.

"Slight problem Savior." Terra said.

"What is it?" Savior asked. Terra started to answer, but she didn't get the chance as the door in front of them opened and out stepped Elijah Versaw again, this time wearing a backpack.

"Guys! I thought you would have left by now." Elijah said. Savior groaned inwardly. He wanted to like the kid…but he was a reporter. You saw the problem, or at least you would if you regularly read my work, and if you don't, SHAME ON YOU! Er…we now return you to your regularly scheduled fanfic…or something…

"We hit a slight delay. But it's good we ran into you Elijah. We have one more quick question." Terra said, indicating the coach, who was back into full on drill sergeant mode. "Who's that?"

"Ah, stepped on Coach Van Toolman's field, huh? You must like to live dangerously." Elijah chuckled.

"More like HE does." Savior muttered.

"Well guys, remember how I said that the Illuminati were once a force to be reckoned with on the field? Just before it came crashing down, Toolman was the quarterback, and he was good, a crucial part of a well oiled machine. However, just before they got into the championship, he suffered a slight leg injury, much like Toby. His was much less severe though, and he probably would have recovered in time for the big game. Except almost immediately afterward, that steroid scandal I mentioned broke. Van got caught in the middle. Like Toby, he wasn't taking steroids, but his leg injury suggested that he had been, and despite being medically cleared, his team was disqualified from the game. He went on to college, but his credibility was shot: no one believed that he, the centerpiece of the team, wasn't using drugs when several of his teammates were. He had wanted to play football for a big college and the NFL, but once that scandal hit, he was finished. He struggled through college, trying and failing to get on the team, who didn't want to admit him because professional sports was getting crucified for steroid use and they didn't want to go near anyone who even had the slightest trace of suspicion. Once that was done, he drifted through life, never getting anywhere, and eventually he wound up back here, as the coach of the team that he had helped led to glory…at least until the people turned on him."

"That seems to happen a lot." Savior said.

"It didn't use to be that way. If this had happened back in the glory days of this town, they would have given him the benefit of the doubt. But ever since the town started to go down the tubes…people have gotten harder. Angrier. And like most people, they need someone to blame for their pain. Van was one of them, like Toby."

Elijah sighed, shifting his backpack.

"You know, it makes me wonder…whoever Cauterize is, he sounds like someone who's sick of being the victim. Which is worrisome. For now, he's going after bad people, criminals…but people who blame…it never ends. If this city runs out of bad people…I don't want to know who Cauterize might target next."

He gave Savior a friendly pat on the back.

"Good luck guys. I think you're gonna need it." Elijah said, and he turned and left. Savior looked at Terra, and then the two wordlessly turned and left.

"Who were those guys Coach?" one of the football players asked Toolman, who had kept his eyes on the two metahumans, holding his sore right wrist.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out, and they're going to pay. NO ONE does that to me. No one."

* * *

"Where did Chesbro go?" Savior asked calmly. Instead of a police car, he had returned to where Chesbro had parked to find a luxury car, a Rolls Royce with tinted windows.

"That's what I wanted to tell you. Someone apparently radioed Chesbro and told him to head back to the station. They sent this car to chauffeur us around instead. They said it was a token of appreciation."

"Token of appreciation my left eye." Savior said. The chauffeur had by now gotten out of the car and opened it for the two of them. Savior looked at the car like it was some kind of rotting animal. The young chauffeur didn't seem to notice.

"Terra, get on a rock and hook up with Beast Boy, do a few more sweeps of the city. Scalpel says he's heading back to the hotel, I'll meet you back there. We'll try and plan a strategy."

"What are you going to do?" Terra asked.

"Settle something." Savior said, and then he headed for the car, getting in and indicating for the chauffeur to close the door. He did so and headed for the front.

Terra would have complained, except she had an idea what was going to happen and she really didn't want to be around. With a slight rumble, she found a large rock under the surface, raised it up, hopped on, and took off.

A quick call on her communicator allowed her to meet up with Beast Boy, who swooped in as an eagle and landed on her rock roughly twelve minutes later.

"Hey Terra. How's it going?"

"Noel and I learned some interesting information." Terra said, and filled Beast Boy in.

"Huh. You think there's anything to it?"

"A lot of people lived in this city, we could be exposed to a hundred such situations and none of them would be Cauterize. But still…I have a feeling in my gut…in any case, we'll all need to compare notes. We can't all go off chasing our tails, nothing will get done that way."

"That some kind of diss?" Beast Boy teased light-heartedly. Terra smiled and giggled…and then there was suddenly that awkward silence between them. Terra coughed, and Beast Boy scratched the back of his head.

"You find anything?" Terra asked Beast Boy.

"Not much…but I'll tell you, this city used to be really nice. But now…it's really dilapidated. Things really have gone downhill."

"Yeah, and we know why." Terra said, pointing up. The rock was floating a few hundred feet below the masses of chemical smoke that were belched forth by the factories off in the distance, mixing with the clouds to form a thick barrier. The sun could pierce through it, somewhat, but the moon remained covered, or at least it would when night would fall.

Silence again.

"Well, Noel said we should do a few more sweeps before we head in. You take the east, I'll take the west?" Terra asked.

"Sure." Beast Boy said, and took the chance to step off the edge of the rock and fall, turning into an eagle again and flying off with a shriek.

Terra sighed. So much want and yet so hard to find a connection, as she turned the rock and flew off, down towards the buildings.

* * *

The mask hides all.

Right in front of them and they didn't have a clue.

Silly children.

Perhaps he would run into later. Perhaps not. But it matters not.

It was time to get back to work.

The city had to be cleaned.

It had to be a nice town again.

* * *

Savior had, for the sake of it, told the driver to take him back to the hotel. But he expected such a trip to take little more then ten minutes. They had been driving at least twice that long, and as Noel had found out, the windows were tinted both ways. Savior had no idea where they were going. Not for the first time today, he regretted leaving Robin's car back at the police station.

"You know, this most likely isn't the way to the hotel. Or are you just a really bad driver?" Savior asked. No answer. Savior tapped on the glass separating him from the driver and again got no answer. He had a feeling that if he tried the door, he would find them locked. That didn't really matter: the Shimmer could tear the whole car apart if he wanted it to. But not yet.

Six minutes later, the car stopped.

"Are we at the…"

The door opened, and Savior turned his head to see a big beefy man with an ape-like skull and no neck aiming a rather large gun at him. On the other side of him, Noel heard the door opening, and turning his head, found another huge meathead with a similar gun aimed at him.

"Don't move." One of them said.

Savior didn't. The two slid into the car seats next to him, crowding him, never lowering their guns. After a few seconds, two more men, these ones smaller but also holding large guns, got into the car and put themselves in the seats in front of Savior (apparently it was a combination Rolls-Royce/limousine).

The five waited in silence.

And then one of the pair to get in second slipped out again, and another man slipped in instead, the man with the gun quickly slipping back in after him.

Savior's face darkened. He knew who this was.

"Good evening." Said Stephen Pierce.

Deep inside him, Savior felt the anger begin to stir. Not because of the dilemma he know apparently found himself in: he had expected that. No. It was the fact that Stephen Pierce, the man who now owned and commanded Light City…bore a striking resemblance to Noel's father. Maxwell Collins.

Not too much of one, but Pierce's carefully cut long black hair, streaked with grey that added to a distinguished look rather then showed age, and his neatly trimmed beard, which was a tad bit pointier, almost a van dyke (and wouldn't THAT be a cliché), looked quite a bit like Maxwell Collins, Noel's father (and eternal shame). But while Maxwell Collins had smooth features, Stephen Pierce's features were rough and rugged, a dash of pirate buccaneer on the hardened stone of someone who had clawed his way to where he was.

Savior snorted. The gunman who had got out to let Stephen Pierce in removed a small sleek case from inside his jacket and popped it open to reveal fine cigars. Pierce took one.

"Smoke?"

"I don't."

"As you will." Pierce said, lighting it with a lighter offered by his man on the other side. Savior stayed silent.

"I assume you know who I am."

Savior nodded.

"Then you know we have a problem. One of your kind, if I may say so, has shown up in this city. Now you must understand…I've been here a long time. This city is very dependant on me. This Cauterize, most likely, has schemes of making me one of his victims. I want assurances that you will do everything in your power to neutralize this threat, to me, and this city, posthaste."

Savior continued his silence.

"Now young man, this is supposedly the duty you took on when you put on that silly costume, if you were wearing it anyway, and called yourself a superhero. I don't really care if you like me or not. You have been summoned here for a task, and you will carry it out. And only that task. This city was fine as it was, and it will be fine without you. Do the job you were hired for, and leave. If you don't, well, I don't like making life difficult for others, but I take pride in doing it well."

Silence.

"Answer Mr. Pierce." One of the apes growled.

"Fuck you." Savior replied. The ape's face blazed with rage, and he brought back a hand that was the size of the average human thigh.

"Hold it Flint. Not yet." Pierce said. Flint lowered his arm, his eyes glowering, begging for a chance. "Young man, you do not understand. This is MY city. I know everything that happens in it. I've worked long and hard to make it that way. If you want to cause me problems, well…I have dealt with problems my whole life."

"If you kill me, or I disappear, every single Titan will be here within a minute, and they'll tear this city apart until they find you." Savior said.

"Ah yes, the impotent threat. You know why I am not afraid of that possibility, young man? Because for it to be carried out, you have to die. And no one wants to die, young man."

Savior smirked.

"You're right." He said. "I don't."

And the Shimmer strand, the one that had flowed out of the foot Noel had kept firmly planted on the floor, that had carefully, without making noise, drilled its way through the base of the car, flowed out and seized a firm grip on the under chassis, and then formed a crude jack under the grip, a jack that Savior sent a mental command to.

The car suddenly bucked up like it was the mother of all lowriders, and Pierce and his men suddenly found themselves in the equivalent of a blender, knocking men off guard and guns off target.

Savior attacked, whipping around and slamming his hand in a knife edged chop into the side of the neck of the yet-unnamed simian goon, causing a sudden interruption in the blood flow to the brain that resulted in a swift faint, even as he was turning around, even as Flint roared and tried to shoot him, even as the Shimmer sprang out and slammed into his throat, turning his bellow into a muffled wet gasp, even as the strand split into two and slammed into both sides of Flint's temple, a blow that would knock even a man of his size out. The strands flowed down and latched onto Flint's large shoulders and propelled Savior out, as he slammed his foot across the third of Pierce's men's face, even as another strand flew from his back and slammed into the gut of the last man, then whipped up and lashed across his face as he doubled over, even as more strands slashed out and grabbed up the fallen guns, even as Savior finished his turn as more Shimmer lines sprang from his arm and formed into a twin-pronged blade that he stabbed out, the blades stabbing into either side of Stephen Pierce's head, whose face now bore a look that was a lot less confident and sure then it had been three seconds ago.

"Oh, you have a problem, Mr. Pierce." Savior said, as the four lines bearing the guns of Pierce's men floated in front of the crime boss, the lines merging into one that brought the guns together and enveloped them in solid white energy. "You have a problem with this city…" Savior said, as strange noises began to come from the sphere the guns had disappeared into. "You have a problem…with Cauterize…and now…you have a problem…with ME."

The sphere opened up, revealing a perfectly formed ball that had once been four guns, crushed and shaped to perfection.

"You think you have power, Mr. Pierce? You may have power in this small city on the edge of damnation…but to me, you are nothing, Mr. Pierce. NOTHING. So let me tell you how it's REALLY going to go, Mr. Pierce, since you were so kind to tell me how it is…We will deal with Cauterize, Mr. Pierce, and if you have somehow survived his wrath, we will make sure that before we leave, we will deal with YOU. And that's not a promise, Mr. Pierce. That's a prophecy. And a curse."

Savior pulled the blades out of the car wall and dropped the new paperweight at Pierce's feet. A Shimmer line blasted the door off, and Savior stepped out to reveal a very surprised and scared chauffeur, who had gotten out to see what all the fuss was about. Savior looked around and found himself on a cliff overlooking the chemical plants, forever belching their concealing smoke, at the edge of Light City.

"You can leave now. I'll walk home." Savior said, and with a Shimmer line he was gone.

"Mr. Pierce…" the driver said, looking into the car.

Stephen's Pierce's fist slammed into the driver's face, knocking him clean out, and the so called owner of Light City stepped out, his face purple with rage, as he snapped open his cell phone.

He would show that impudent teenager. Right after he ripped Tercero a new one for bringing them here in the first place.

* * *

Terra lay on her back, floating on her rock and staring up at the clouds. She'd done her few sweeps and all she had gotten was a bad case of depression, looking over once prosperous neighborhoods now filled with boarded up businesses, litter-strewn streets, and people whose eyes that showed nothing but bone-deep exhaustion. If only Cauterize wasn't a killer. He probably could do…

A sound…floating on the wind…angry yelling…no…wait…

Screaming.

Terra snapped up from her prone position, and then her battle instincts kicked in. It was him. She knew it.

She headed for the noise, wondering if she would find anything. She knew she'd find one thing at least. Aftermath.

Whether it would be recent or still happening remained to be seen.

* * *

The burning car silhouetted the costumed form of Cauterize, as he slipped the blade back into his gauntlet.

"The pimp. A cruel, vicious job practiced by stupid, violent, misogynistic men who regularly do things that would make the average decent human being sick. Yet here we are, as the so-called signs of a pimp find their way into popular culture. Ohhh, looka my bling bling! Looka mah hoes! Even the word itself has become something that could be construed as positive. Look at my ride, see how pimped out it is! This is a very bad lesson to be teaching the next generation, don't you think? Don't you think they should work on properly demonizing the profession, so the few decent men that actually do it get an idea to get out and all the other pieces of slime get the proper punishment they deserve?" Cauterize said to the collection of scared looking hookers clustered at one end of the street.

"What? You don't agree? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now ladies. Your bosses are dead. Your customers, the ones who were around at the moment anyway…they're dead too. And don't bother going elsewhere, you'll find that across the city, situations mirrors this one." Cauterize said, the flames reflecting off his glass faceplate. "I took care of the drug business last night. Now the sex business can join it in chaos. But don't worry ladies, you can still sell rock and roll. Nothing wrong with a little good music, don't you agree?" Cauterize said, and actually played a little air guitar. "Yesno?"

The hookers were backing away, well, as best they could in their heels. Cauterize frowned.

"Is this really the life you want? Stalking alleyways until you overdose or meet some john who wants something way rougher then usual? This is no life ladies. Not for you or anyone. Nice towns don't have your kind…well, to this degree anyway. Can't completely purge the dark side of humans…but I can damn sure…cut it down to its bare minimum." Cauterize said. "Oh, but sir, my family kicked me out, my father raped me, I need the drugs, I need the pain…shut up. You're human beings. You have something that has a nearly infinite amount of potential. Tap it. Use it. Find a better life. A nice life. In the nice town this place will be. And if you need a little motivation…"

And then Cauterize was over by one of the hookers, his arm down and his blade out. She looked at him in shock.

And then her body split in half at an angle, her head and left shoulder and arm falling away from the rest, as the hookers began to scream.

"Clean up, or DIE. There are no other options. GOT IT?" Cauterize snarled.

The hookers ran for their lives. Cauterize snorted and spat on the ground, and then his eye caught something. A second later he was in front of one of the fleeing ladies. Specifically, a Korean one.

"Ah…another lovely…too much makeup though…" he said, reaching up to brush her face. "Also too thin…you should eat more…"

A piece of rock buried itself in the ground next to Cauterize, making a foot-wide hole.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER YOU MURDERING BASTARD!" Terra screamed from above, as she dropped down into the street, so hard she shattered her rock platform into pieces.

Cauterize didn't seem very perturbed. In fact he didn't even look at her.

"It appears we have a situation. You'd best leave, things are about to get ugly." Cauterize said, and turned around to face Terra as the Asian prostitute ran away as fast as she could.

"So…the powers that be snap their fingers and here you are ready to serve. All that great rhetoric about saving the world, and you prove to be little more then mercenaries. A shame." Cauterize said.

"Shut up you psycho. I wouldn't want a cent to do what has to be done. You're so fast…" Terra said, as she levitated up the largest chunk of rock left from her former glider. "DODGE THIS!"

And she fired the piece at Cauterize as fast as she could, which was actually very fast. Slade, an absolute master of combat and planning (and in another life, Terra's teacher and mentor), would have had some trouble dodging it.

Cauterize seemingly didn't even bother. He just held up his left hand.

The rock hit his hand, and to Terra's utter shock it shattered on impact, fragmenting into a thousand tiny pebbles that scattered around Cauterize, bouncing off his mask and gathering around him.

"No…I don't even think I had to." Cauterize said, lowering his hand. He raised his other one, which was now clutching one of his blades, which he waved back and forth in the motion of a chastising adult.

"How….how…?" Terra gasped.

(He'd zipped up to the rock and slashed it so many times that when it had actually hit Cauterize it had broken as such…all so fast she hadn't even seen him move).

"I am nothing but a sport, young lady. If you really feel that your cause is righteous, then surely some divine hand would guide you to victory, won't it?" Cauterize said. Terra's face contorted in anger. His voice didn't SOUND like Toby's, or Van's…or Chesbro's, or anyone she had met today. But then again, the tricks one could use with the Speed Force were legion. What if he was vibrating his vocal cords or something that caused his tone and pitch to alter to his taste…

Forget it. She'd find out who he was when she pulled off his mask, as she raised her arms, her eyes glowing as the street tore up, thousands of rocks of all shapes and sizes rising up next to, above and behind her.

"All right…you want the truth?"

"Can you handle the truth?" Cauterize replied.

Terra didn't answer. Instead she just raised up her right arm higher…

And then clenched her left fist. Giant daggers of rock exploded up from around Cauterize's feet, a sheer mass of them that quickly stole him for her vision. Then, with a scream, she fired, hurling all her projectiles past her, her hair whipping from the breeze they caused as she poured them all onto the area where Cauterize was. Part of her didn't want to kill him…but the other part rationalized there was really no other choice.

The barrage went on for twenty seconds before all the rocks were used. A cloud of dust enveloped Terra.

She didn't look at it. Instead her eyes were closed, even as the dust settled, revealing a massive pile of rubble in front of her. She took two deep breaths.

And then she turned, a sharp dagger of rock breaking out of the concrete and flying up to attach to her fist as she turned around and stabbed behind her, knowing and hoping she would hit flesh, KNOWING that…

Nothing.

She opened her eyes and blinked. There was nothing behind her.

And then a voice spoke.

NOW it was behind her.

"You have good instincts."

Terra whirled, and then the blade chopped her rock dagger off at the base before it whirled before her eyes, the eyes that were reflected in Cauterize's helmet.

"Check this out."

It hit her…something. It rather felt like a giant pillow (what it was was a carefully manipulated wind blast) that both struck her and shoved her, and yet in a way that she didn't lose her balance, as she slid back along the ground like it had become ice, her boots leaving a trail in the dust, sliding back for fifteen feet before she stopped.

She blinked, and then realized she had been holding her breath. She let it out in a gasp, as her eyes darted back and forth, trying, PRAYING, for any indication, any at all…

"You can't win." Said a voice in her ear.

Terra turned and thrust up her elbow, but of course there was nothing there.

He was at her right.

"I could slice you from groin to gullet and take a trip around the city before you would begin to split apart."

Terra swung at the voice, but there was nothing again.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Cauterize said. He was in front of her. She lashed out with a roundhouse kick. He was gone, and so was her balance, as she fell…

He caught her, leaning over her like she was a ballroom dancer.

"Go back to your city. Go back to the problems you can solve."

Terra, her rational thinking and battle calculations now getting swamped under all the adrenaline her system was dumping into her brain, grabbed up a rock by her hand and threw it the old fashioned way.

Bad idea, as the next thing she knew, she was standing where Cauterize had been.

So her own rock hit herself. She stumbled back, the taste of blood filling her mouth from a split lip.

He was there, behind her, his blade at her neck.

"Any time child. Any time."

The blade was gone. He was there, in front of her.

"I don't want to have to hurt you. But believe me, I can do it, VERY VERY well."

And Beast Boy leapt.

He had followed the distress signal Terra had given out from her communicator. He had flown down. He had seen her commence her rock assault, had hidden in the shadows, waiting, hoping that Cauterize would toy with her, and when he did, he silently turned into a puma and began to creep up on him, his attention focused on Terra, hoping he would make it, and he had, and he had leapt, and now he could see Cauterize turning his head and at the blank black glass that hid his expression but it was too late his claws were two inches from his hide and even HE couldn't get away that fast…

And then Cauterize was gone.

And Terra was standing in his place.

Somehow, she had the time to scream.

"TER-!" Beast Boy got out before they collided, tumbling down, Beast Boy trying to retract his claws, feeling them snag and tear something anyway and praying it wasn't skin or flesh, as they tumbled in a heap even as Beast Boy forced himself back into human mode and tried to get his bearings…

Cauterize appeared and watched the little circus act with amusement, even as he took deep breaths.

"Pumaman…he flies like…a moron…" Cauterize sang, and then had to stop for more air. He got his breathing under control as the tumbling stopped, and brushed the dust off himself as the green-skinned one got himself under control and started standing up. Then his mouth winced slightly. As Beast Boy got a good look at him, he appeared to be favoring his right wrist. Maybe Terra had managed to hit him?

Whatever it was, it passed, as Cauterize rubbed his wrist a bit and then looked at Beast Boy.

"Not half bad of a move…if you really want to be generous." Cauterize said. "I would love to continue this dance, my friends…but quite frankly, you bore me. Ta."

And he was gone, a line of flame exploding on the ground where he had ran, escaping for Beast Boy could even finish taking the breath he had been taking.

"……………………Shit." He said. This was going to be a real big problem…

"Um…Gar…." Terra said.

"Sorry Terra, I thought I…" Beast Boy said, turning around.

And found that his hands were clutching something, something had gotten tangled up in them when they had been puma paws, a tangled…garment.

Terra's shirt.

Which had been torn off her, which had forced her to stay sitting, her arms crossed to cover herself, giving Beast Boy a combined look of resentment, anger, embarrassment, and amusement.

Beast Boy turned as red as the parts of Cauterize's costume.

"SORRYSORRYSORRYSORRY…!" Beast Boy said, whirling around, not only to hide his face but the…other part that had reacted to a half naked Terra. He had a feeling that the feelings linked to that part needed to be brought up, but this was a very bad time…

"Not your fault…" Terra said, getting up. Beast Boy discarded the torn rags of Terra's shirt, and then, after thinking for a second, pulled his off.

"Here. It should cover you." Beast Boy said. He felt Terra taking the shirt, then a brief period of silence.

"It fits." She said, and Beast Boy turned towards her.

Terra arched an eyebrow.

"Wow Gar. You been working out?"

"Hmmm?" Beast Boy said, and then looked down at the small but tightly formed muscles on his chest and gut. "Oh well, you know, this is a strenuous life, and you heal better if you're in shape, and uh…well…er…" Beast Boy said, rubbing the back of his head. "I think we should head back to the hotel, fill Savior and Scalpel in. After this…we definitely need a plan."

"Definitely." Terra said, and in a few moments the two were heading back on a rock platform.

Neither stayed too close to the other.

They didn't want certain things revealed.

* * *

"That fast huh." Noel said flatly.

"I couldn't even see him move. It was almost on the verge of teleportation, except I think teleportation would have been slower then this. I couldn't make an offensive move at all. I have a feeling that while my brain was forming my plans into actions he could have zipped into a bar, drank a beer, and zipped back to dodge everything, and then went back and drank ANOTHER beer before he headed over to me." Tara said.

"Great. Perfect. Shit." Noel said. "Nigel, brew up some coffee. This new wrinkle is a big one, and we're going to have to do some serious work."

"Um, Noel…maybe we should do more then brew coffee. Maybe we should call the T-Tower and…"

"No. We have no idea of any possible plans behind this Nigel. For all we know, Cauterize could be part of a larger plot to draw the Titans away from Jump City and leave it open to attack. If it is that, I don't want to be the one who was responsible. I couldn't live with myself."

"What about that Rolls-Royce?" Tara asked.

"That problem is less pressing then the one with Cauterize. We have to figure out some kind of strategy…Nigel, is something wrong?"

"Bullying coward." Nigel growled. "I LOATHE humans who act like that. I dearly hope that we can solve this Cauterize problem in a way that allows us to deal with Stephen Pierce. He needs to learn the truth of some things in this world."

"Indeed. But he's probably still licking his wounds. We need to focus on Cauterize. Gar, you saw him in the fight. At the end, you said he was tired?"

"He was breathing heavy anyway. Is that good?"

"Possibly. Those who tap the Speed Force for quickness can also use the dimension's energy in place of theirs to greatly retard exhaustion. But it's still an exertion, and its clear Cauterize is pushing himself. That might be our opening. Might be the only chance we have…" Noel said, and then the ringing of the hotel phone interrupted him. "Damn, I only gave a few people this number, I hope it hasn't been leaked to reporters…" Noel said, as he went into the other room to take the call.

"So…you have some suspects, you said?" Gar asked Tara.

"We have some possibilities, Gar." Tara replied. "Nigel, you did some medical research, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. We'll combine that with whatever the police have, see if we can form a clearer picture…" _And hope it's not so big we get lost in it._ Tara added mentally.

The phone hung up in the next room, and Noel returned. He did not look happy.

"Amenddum guys! Make yourself nice and pretty tomorrow, because Mayor Tercero has called a PRESS CONFERENCE to show off his problem solvers, namely, US!"

"WHAT?" Gar yelled. "Does he want to MAKE himself a target?"

"I don't know! If I'm not dealing with criminals, I'm dealing with liars and fools!" Noel yelled, throwing his hand into the air. "I changed my mind! Nigel, fire up the laptop and call Tim so we can hook it up to the main computer. I am not getting caught with my pants down in this!"

"I think if he wants your pants down, Cauterize will have them down. Probably before you even know what happened." Tara said.

Abet not loud enough for Noel to hear.

"Is there anything else anyone wants to add?" Noel said.

"Oh yeah! I think Tara managed to hit him once. While we were down, I saw him cradling his right wrist like it was hurting him. That might mean…" Gar trailed off at the odd look that had come over Noel's face. "What? Does that mean something?"

"I don't know." Noel said, recalling events of the day. "But I wonder…"

* * *

Chesbro awoke with a start, nearly tipping backwards and out of his chair. He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

Dozed off again. Dammit, this shouldn't be happening. He was 26, not 56. True, he hadn't been getting much sleep, what with one thing and another…and this Cauterize wasn't helping either.

He took a sip of coffee, winced at the cold bitterness of it, and resumed his studies.

Of Mayor Tercero.

He'd lived his life through hunches, and in this situation he had a feeling he needed to know more.

* * *

"But Toby…!"

"Mom, would you relax? I have to do this. The more I do, the quicker I can rebuild the muscle. It has to be actual running Mom, I can't just run in place."

"But Toby, you just got back from a run! You were soaked in sweat!"

"Yeah Mom, but your meal was delicious, and it gave me new energy. I have to burn it off…" Toby said as he opened the door.

"But Toby, that vigilante is out there! What if you run into him?"

Toby laughed.

"Mom, he's out to kill criminals. I don't think he has any interest in me. I'll be back in an hour at most. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Toby said. He closed the door and rolled his eyes. He loved his mom, but she was a serious worrywart, probably a step away to keeping him locked up in his room all the time to prevent any harm from coming to him.

Which was ridiculous. He needed to run.

It was what he was born to do.

He took off down the street at a brisk jog, feeling as if the world was waiting for him, and soon he'd have it all again.

* * *

And somewhere else, in darkness, a figure creeps through the shadows. He has left a picked lock in his wake, and the night security has long ago settled in for his usual nap. He won't be disturbed.

He finds the safe. He dials the combination by feel. He thinks he doesn't know, but he does.

And he suspects something. Something that has required this step. He has to know.

He opens the door and withdraws the file. He sits down, snapping on a tiny mini-flashlight that he holds in his teeth to read.

And he reads.

And it awakens in him. The anger. The fury at what was being done to this city. HIS city.

And it was even worse then he though, as he read page after page, and finally came to the end and saw what was scribbled there.

His jaw drops slightly. The mini flashlight falls to the floor and goes out.

Silence for a bit.

And then, one sentence, a hiss of pure vehemence.

"You fucking BASTARD."

To Be Continued


	4. Running for Office

Part 4: Running for Office

"All right, report guys. What do we know?" Noel said in front of the bulletin board he had picked up, along with all the odds and ends the four young adults would need to keep their clues ordered. He didn't really know if it would help, but he had watched _Law and Order_ a lot of times: he was probably doing SOMETHING right.

"Pretty much everything we knew yesterday." Gar said. If he was with anyone else, he would have made some goofy suggestions, but he knew Noel wouldn't appreciate them, and after the so-called battle with Cauterize the night before, Gar Logan wasn't really in a joke-cracking mood.

"Right, but that's important. Going over old ground is tedious and frustrating, but you never know when something is going to leap out at you. All right, let's put it up." Noel said, and began pinning sheets of information he had printed out. "We know Cauterize is tapping the Speed Force. We know he's young, from mid-teens to mid twenties at the latest. And we know that he knows what he's doing, as evidenced by his coordinated attacks and his utter lack of mercy or remorse towards those he feels need to die. What else?"

"He clearly has knowledge of blades." Nigel said, sticking up his own notes…and getting both fingers stuck in the soft cork that the bulletin board was made of. "Oops. Hang on a second…" Nigel said, grabbing his arm and yanking it out, sending papers flying. Shimmer strands caught them and pinned them back on.

"Sorry. Anyway, Cauterize has knowledge of metals and designs. He's constructed two swords that can be used while moving at incredible speed without any detrimental effects. He can use those swords perfectly, causing severe wounds that are exposed to such heat they are fused shut almost as soon as they are opened, hence his name. This suggests he may have some knowledge of anatomy as well, abet the kind that can be gathered from any medical textbook." Nigel said.

"He knows how to fight, but I think it's just from his speed. I don't think he has any actual combat skill or leanings. His whole style of fighting is based on his swiftness. If we can find a way to lesser or neutralize it, I think he will prove to be a sitting duck." Tara said

"Ah, and there is the $64,000 question. Just how DO we neutralize his speed? Until we know more, we'll just have to wing it, for better or for worse. Now…" Noel said, looking back at the board. "Let's consider our suspect pool. As you all know, Light City is in a bad way. A local crime lord by the name of Stephen Pierce has the entire town in his pocket and is using it to make an empire, abet in ways we can't link to him. Cauterize has, with his actions, done some severe damage to the structure of Pierce's territory, but it is damage that can be fixed. Cauterize wants something more permanent. I'm sure he'll target the power players who organize these things, players which include Mr. Pierce and his bootlicker, Mayor Tercero, who we have to see in a few hours."

"Don't remind me." Tara griped.

"Getting back to the suspects, there's a lot of unhappiness in this town, especially considering it used to be very prosperous. There are a thousand people who would like to be doing what Cauterize is doing…but that means nothing. Tapping the Speed Force isn't like finding a penny. You have to be truly fortunate…or dogged. Motivation that has to go beyond normal human desire."

Noel picked up a picture.

"An informant gave me the name of this kid here, Toby Garigen. He was a track runner, very fast. Whole town worshipped him until he injured himself, at which point they dropped him like a hot potato. I've witnessed that Toby is VERY determined to get back to his former peak…and something else." Noel said, pulling out a new folder. "The testimony of Arisha Choshi, aka Giggles, indicates that Cauterize seems to have a thing for Asian women. She reported on how he seemed to be struggling with an urge to…well, you know. He kept it under control…but we don't know how long that will last. According to at least one person, Toby also likes Asians. And he thinks women should basically give themselves to him. Terra and I saw evidence of this firsthand."

"But if Toby is like that, why didn't he just commit the rape?" Gar asked.

"Not sure. It might just be a mild thing. Rapists do what they do to dominate, and control women, to hurt them. Toby didn't seem to want that…maybe a worshipful attitude, but I get the idea he probably knows deep down when he'll get it or not. Then again, I am not a psychologist. He might just have more control then most. Or maybe he's working his way up."

"He can commit dozens of murders but he can't bring himself to actually rape a girl?" Nigel asked.

"True Nigel, but who knows what Cauterize thinks? But he does seem to have a very direct attitude to his killing. He just does it. We haven't really seen any evidence of sadism. He might be messy, but what he does happens so quickly that his victims probably don't feel it. Raping is a more…vicious act, another kind of monster…maybe he doesn't want to go there…or hasn't worked up the courage to go there yet."

"What about Tara?" Gar asked. Tara nodded.

"That's also true. Tara, what did you get from your, um, battle with him?"

"He didn't seem to much care that I was there. An annoyance, at best. He gave the indication he thought we had been hired to stop him, but he didn't press it. And while he made threats and toyed with me…I didn't think he got anything out of it. Like I was more of a step then a obstacle."

"Which suggests great confidence." Nigel said.

"Yes…and quite possibly confidence that isn't intermixed with arrogance. Which could be a serious problem. Egotists make mistakes because they think they're infallible. Cauterize might not think he's like that…close, but not utterly, and he may be cautious in that regard. Which is, as usual, bad." Noel said. "But getting back to Tara's fight with him…Tara said Cauterize appeared to be favoring his right wrist. And while I know that could be coincidence, I don't like the smell of it. In which case, I add another suspect, Van Toolman." Noel sad, putting up a picture of the coach. "Toolman is a failed football hero who had to give up his dreams due to the assumptions and judgments of others. Not only is he probably really steamed at this town, and the reasons that it did what it did, that is, the failing of the tourist industry, which let Mr. Pierce get his slimy hands into the place, he looked like the type to obsessively do what he does, which is the world of general exercise and exertion. And when someone is obsessed in this world, who knows where it may lead? And he also got into a confrontation with Tara at the school where I saw him, during which I had to restrain him by grabbing his right wrist. And I wasn't gentle. The fact that Cauterize seemed to have a similar injury…well, you see where I'm going here."

"Not really." Nigel said. "From what Tara said, this Toolman was violent, with a hair trigger temper and apparently a deep rooted insecurity complex. If he was Cauterize, Tara would probably be dead. He strikes me as the type that would take great pleasure in paying Tara back for her supposed sin of showing him up. Why hold back and act like he did?"

"Again true, but remember Nigel, we have no idea just what is going on in his head." Noel said. "There might be elements of various psychosis' here. Let's say Cauterize IS Toolman. As his normal self, he may feel small and inferior, prompting him to act like he did towards Tara, but behind the mask of Cauterize, he becomes a whole different person. He KNOWS he has power. He KNOWS he is better. He could easily treat Tara completely differently. He might even get a kick out of it, you know, ha, if only the fool girl knew who was showing her up…but then again, it might very well prove he ISN'T Cauterize. We have too many if, and's, and maybes in this case. We still have a few hours before the press conference. Let's get cracking. Find out what we can, considering what we know for sure: Young man, prepared, knows his blades, has a thing for Asians. Let's get to work."

And the Titans did, as they read, wrote, phoned, typed, faxed, and online researched everything they could think off. Noel, after nearly forty minutes of security checks and traces, was allowed into the JLA computer database to look up a profile of Thaddeus Thawne, aka Inertia, who was a known teenage Speed Force user on the wrong side of the tracks. But he hadn't been heard from in a while, and he didn't have any links to Light City. It was a long shot, but it seemed to be all they had.

Until Tara came into the room some time later.

"Hey, I just got off the phone with an officer Someone Or Other. I called the Police Station to see if I could tap into the gossip, see if there was a chunk of information there."

"Why so?"

"Well…why is Cauterize so confident? I thought…maybe he works for the police department. They have more then a few young policemen. I'd certainly be confident if I could know what the enemy was planning ahead for." Tara said.

"It might also explain how he was able to make such accurate attacks on the criminal element." Nigel added. "Even when you can move that fast, it takes time to search every single nook and cranny. It would be a lot faster if you had a direct line to just where these people tend to be."

"Interesting points, both. I assumed you learned something." Noel said to Tara.

"Not really…and I must say, it disgusts me at what some of them are willing to say about each other behind their backs without any proof besides a fake name. Do you know one of them has a "special" mug shot book he keeps of prostitutes he took pictures off while topless?"

"Tara, the point."

"Right. Guess who is known for being a knife collector and having a large amount of fancy and antique blades in his home?"

"Who?"

"Our own special chauffeur. Detective Chesbro."

* * *

Detective Chesbro flashed his badge to the security guard at the door and headed down the hallway, passing a gaggle of secretaries on their way to a coffee break, some suited businessmen, and a janitor before he went up some stairs and headed for the double oak doors at the end of the hallway.

He was surprised to see someone sitting in a chair outside of them. He was reading a newspaper, his face concealed. Chesbro coughed to get his attention, and the paper folded down to reveal the face of Deputy Mayor Roman Fernendez, who looked both surprised and irritated.

"Morning." Chesbro said.

"Yes it is." Roman replied, folding his paper and setting it aside. But not before Chesbro's sharp eyes noticed that if he hadn't missed a move, Roman was reading the Classified section. So either he had been there a REALLY long time…or he had just been making a show of reading the paper. Or he was looking for a job. You never knew.

"Detective Chester?"

"Chesbro."

"Right, of course. Can I help you with something?"

"I'd like to speak to the mayor."

"He's currently very busy right now."

"It's urgent. It has to do with this Cauterize business."

"I'm afraid even that won't do. He really is very busy."

"I could just kick the door down. With the chief's death, any complaint would get lost in the shuffle."

"I wouldn't. He really is BUSY. You know, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?"

What was really happening occurred to Chesbro.

"Oh. Is he this busy often?"

"More often then I'd care for." Roman said.

Chesbro struck the option that Roman was looking for a job. He'd read of him last night: born in one of the areas of Light City that had been the first claimed to the problems it was suffering from, his father working long long hours at the chemical plants and his mother holding down two jobs so they would have enough money to send him to a good school and become someone. How a tragic accident (and it HAD been an accident, really) had killed his father in his senior year of high school, forcing him to go to a local college rather then the Yale or Oxford that should have been his due. He learned what he could there and returned to Light City, where he joined City Hall as a clerk and rapidly made his way to where he was. Which would be really impressive, if it didn't just mean that Tercero had seen his talent and wanted to make sure Roman was kept firmly under his thumb until Roman's talents and drive were consumed by numb despair or he made a power play and Tercero had an excuse to "remove" him. Two of Tercero's deputy mayors had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. The official story was they packed up and left town. The unofficial story was pointless, as none of it could be tied to anyone of consequence. So why bother?

Chesbro wondered which of the two awaited Roman. Probably Option 2. From the way he was sitting there, his muscles tensed and coiled, there was a lot of resentment that he was being made to sit outside Tercero's office while Tercero dallied with whatever piece of eye candy had caught his attention this week. Roman was the type that wanted to change things.

By any means necessary, perhaps?

"Mr, um…Deputy…"

"Roman is fine."

"Roman. You'll forgive me….but I am a naturally suspicious person. I wanted to tell the mayor of them…but seeing you sitting here, I have some more. So please don't take this the wrong way. But where were YOU last night?"

"You mean, where was I when Cauterize made his second attack and killed all those pimps and other deviants?"

"How did you know his specific targets? The papers still haven't put that together." Chesbro said quietly.

Roman didn't blink.

"I work in City Hall Detective. There are other information sources here. And to answer your first question, I left here at six, and went home and went to bed. I was alone, and no one saw me. So, do you want to arrest me now because normal people don't go around making sure they're alibied every second?"

Chesbro just stared.

"Hello? You gone deaf suddenly?"

"No. Just pondering what you said. It's true. Just about anyone can sound guilty under the right light." Chesbro said.

He didn't say it didn't matter for Roman, because Chesbro knew he was lying. He was good at that. He couldn't tell the degree of the lie…but it was there.

Maybe that meant nothing. EVERYONE lied to the police, even if it was just a tiny fraction. Roman might just be keeping secret that instead of going home he went to the house of a girlfriend people shouldn't know he was seeing. Or maybe he went to gamble. Or maybe he went to an S&M club. Or maybe he went and lit a bum on fire. Or maybe he was Cauterize.

Chesbro didn't know yet though. He'd have to keep putting the pieces together. The picture wasn't clear yet.

"Well, I'll check back later. Thank you for your candor Roman. I'll repay it in kind…" Chesbro said. "I think you're hiding something. And I'll find out sooner rather then later what it is. I'm very good at that."

"Then why are you still here?" Roman asked. Chesbro pondered the question, and then realized Roman wasn't so much asking why Chesbro was here, in City Hall, but here, in Light City.

"I have faith, Roman. This city is in a bad way…but you and I both know it used to be a lot better. You might have given up on it changing, but I haven't."

"Yet."

"Possibly. But in a way, it is changing. Problem is, it's the wrong kind of change. And if you have something to do with it, I don't think you're just hiding it from me Roman. I think you're hiding it from yourself."

"We all have something to hide, Detective." Roman replied.

"True." Chesbro said, and left. He'd head over to the station and do what he could before the press conference this afternoon. Maybe he could grab a nap. Despite the fact that he kept nodding off these days, he didn't seem to be getting much rest…

Roman watched him go, and was going to go back to his paper when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out.

"Roman."

A brief pause, and then all the tension and strife and general unpleasantness seemed to flow off the Deputy Mayor.

"Hi mom." He said. "No no, I'm ok. Yeah, I'll be at the conference, though I probably won't be on camera. Well, maybe a glimpse…" Roman said, sounding far more relaxed and possibly even happier.

He didn't even notice the door opening and a blonde haired girl with smeared lipstick leaving while adjusting her skirt. He was wrapped up in the phone call. And why wouldn't he be? It was his mother. She'd slaved her whole life to get him where he was, and he was going to make her proud. Even if for the moment it was just by talking to her on the phone.

"DOMAIN! GET IN HERE!"

Roman grimaced.

"Sorry Mom, I have to cut this short. Yeah, love you too. Bye." Roman said, and hung up. He threw his game face on over his intense frustration and went into the office to write Tercero's speech.

The mayor was always in a good mood after such "work". He'd probably only yell at Roman to rewrite it twice.

* * *

Stupid bitch.

Shouldn't have gone so easy on them.

But I know where they are.

Next time, I'll show them…

* * *

"Detective."

Chesbro jerked up from his chair, his vision blurring and then clearing to reveal a female face. He recognized it as the officer he had spoke briefly to at the Pranker robbery scene, before Cauterize had made his presence felt for the first time.

"Sorry sir. You looked to have dozed off."

Chesbro cursed inwardly. Now it was happening at work! What was going on? Maybe he should see a doctor…

"Is it time for the press conference?" he asked.

"Not yet sir. I just wanted to tell you that for now we've got an unofficial new chief."

Chesbro arched an eyebrow. Unofficial?

"Who?"

"Turnquist sir."

The unofficial part suddenly made a lot more sense.

"How did that happen?"

"He came in today and started roaring at everyone he was sick of the nonsense and that everyone was going to shape up or ship out. I think you slept through the best parts though."

Chesbro allowed himself a wry smirk. Garry Turnquist was 58 and the main reason he had become a police officer, back in the days before the city had gone to hell. In the days when his uncle was his father, the actual one busy with his drinking. His uncle was also a policeman, and Turnquist had been his partner, a huge barrel of a man with a booming voice and skin as black as coal. His uncle, Preston Chesbro, used to say the reason Turnquist was so dark was because he had been forged in the fires of hell and been put on this world as a warning to bad people for what awaited them. While his father had eventually cleaned up, by then it had been a little too late: Chesbro was 14 and the time to forge crucial bonds was gone. They had a fair relationship now, but part of Chesbro would never forgive his father for what he had put him and his mother through, the same part that would always love his uncle as his father, now retired and living down in Florida after his weekly lottery ticket finally came up with a $341,980 jackpot. At least someone in the family had had some luck.

Turnquist had stayed on though, as solid as a rock. He should have been police chief…had it not been for the decline, and the arrival of types like Stephen Pierce. Turnquist had been forced down, denied everything he should have had and had earned. But he had soldiered on, and for that same reason Chesbro had.

And now he was police chief. For now, Chesbro mused cynically. The Powers That Be would never let someone like Turnquist stay in that position. Turnquist would actually try and do his job properly. That would not do.

He wondered how long it would last. A month at most?

Unless…

No. He couldn't think that way. He was a police officer. His job was to uphold the law. And that including what Cauterize was doing…even if his likely target's death might let Turnquist stay as chief.

Turnquist wouldn't have wanted it that way either.

"Thanks for the news. Anything else?"

"No sir. Any luck on the Cauterize investigation? I saw those mutants, think they can help?"

"I don't know yet." Chesbro said. "Two of them ran into him last night, but he basically ran away without really putting up a fight. Must have been tired or something. If they meet him again, when he actually intends to put forth an effort…then we'll see."

* * *

"OK, LISTEN UP! I'M ONLY GOING TO SAY THIS ONCE!" Van Toolman roared to the Psy Ed class (as well as coach, he was also gym teacher). "I am not seeing as much improvement as I would like, so therefore, everyone who is on the football team will be doing my scheduled exercises instead of the usual!"

Most of the class groaned.

"HOWEVER…I am in a good mood, so I will make this offer. If you pieces of shit seriously bust your asses in this, I will cancel after school practice for today. Don't stand there thanking me, MOVE!" Toolman bellowed. The football part of the class ran off with some actual motivation. "The rest of you, do the usual, and don't goof off, I'll be watching the team, but I'll also be watching you, and if I catch you messing around, you'll be joining them, with TWICE the weight!" Van warned, indicating how the teenagers had picked up large logs and were running around with them. "Garigen, you don't have any classes after this one today, right?"

"No sir." Toby Garigen replied.

"Ok then, go! You know how to work yourself better then I do, go do one of your runs and we'll call it even!"

"Yes sir! Thank you sir!" Toby said, and jogged off.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Van was in a good mood too as he turned back towards the players.

Why wouldn't he, knowing what he knew now?

He smiled to himself. Soon.

An hour later, several of the members of the Illuminati emerged from the locker room, showered and very sore. At least they'd pleased the coach: he had told them to shower and then he had left. One of the players had left the locker room to get a Coke from a vending machine and had seen his car leaving the parking lot. The players had speculated where the coach was going in such a hurry, but none of them had any answers. So they headed off to their remaining classes, some grudgingly and some not.

It was one of the grudgeful ones that was going down the hall with one of his friends when the door to the _Shining_ opened and Marco Corber stepped out. Who knows what he was doing, but no sooner did he step out then the football player walked into him and shoved him out of the way, causing him to stumble and fall on his rear.

"Move it fatass!" the player snapped, moving on. Marco sputtered on the ground for a bit before he found his voice.

"You can't treat me like that! I'm the editor of the school newspaper!"

"Yeah, RIGHT!" the other one catcalled. "Go tell someone who'll believe it fatso."

The players disappeared around the corner, and Marco steamed in the doorway at the comments and disrespect. He turned back into the room, looking at Elijah, who was sitting on the couch typing on an old electric typewriter as if nothing had happened.

"How dare they treat me like that!" Macro snapped, wanting some sympathy. All he got was a wry look from Elijah over the top of his glasses.

"If you want respect Marco, you're in the wrong business." Elijah said, and returned to typing. Marco snorted and stomped over to his office, slamming the door.

* * *

Tara stood in front of the full length mirror that was in the hotel room she was sharing with Noel (exactly why, she wasn't sure. She had been given some rushed explanation that Nigel had to do weird alien things and had roomed with Gar several times so Gar was used to them and it would be best if they shared the other room. If Noel wasn't already taken, she might have suspected him of having ulterior motives in his organization. But not being with Gar aside, Noel was a neat and considerate roommate who always knocked, kept his clothes folded, and didn't snore.) It was about an hour before the press conference, and Noel had finally called for an end to their Sherlocking and told them to get ready for it and relax and do whatever. Noel was shaving in the bathroom, and with them having currently stopped thinking about their problem (after Noel and Nigel had almost gotten into a fistfight arguing on various sociopathic tendencies and whether Cauterize had demonstrated them or might demonstrate them or wanted to demonstrate them but hadn't because a blimp had crashed or something…), Tara was thinking about her personal problem with Gar.

There was something there, she knew it. But she just could not find the key. She was being reminded of those pictures you would stare at until your eyes focused in a certain way and allowed you to see a new image. She had never managed to see the pictures and all she had ever gotten was a headache. But if it was a perception thing, what could she do to turn Gar's head enough so that they could get out of this vicious circle?

So here she was in front of a mirror. She had abandoned the weight gain idea. Nigel was right: she simply had too strong a metabolism. She studied herself. All the training that Tim and Noel made the Titans undertake in their off hours had given her a slight muscular build, but not enough to detract from her femininity…but due to her body type, she had no curves. Her breasts were rather small, and her legs, while long, had no real shapeliness. Her voice was soft and breathy, which some people found sexy but others used as another sign along with her hair color that she was a dunce. She was no dunce…except in this matter.

Maybe she needed a new hairstyle. Maybe some curls or something…

Tara began fiddling with her hair and hence didn't hear the door opening. She did hear a cough however, and turned to see Noel drying his face.

"Would you like my opinion? No makeup. You have a fine natural look." Noel said.

"I do?"

"I'd say so." Noel said, removing the towel. Tara had been adjusting her hair when Noel had gotten her attention and hence she hadn't had a chance to seriously examine the style she had improvised. She cocked her head and looked at how it positioned now, the long golden sheet falling over her right eye. It had a certain danger…and on another level…it bothered her. Deeply.

"New look?" Noel enquired.

"Maybe in another life." Tara replied, pushing her hair back to the way it was. She sighed. She couldn't really think of any physical change…and that brought her right back to square one. She turned back to Noel, who had four sheets of scribbled notes and a picture that he was holding in front of him via the Shimmer. Did he ever stop thinking and just relax, Tara wondered. She remembered the time Gar and Victor had collaborated to get Noel drunk, but their plan had backfired: Excess alcohol had just caused Noel to fall asleep. No amusing drunken antics that might have shown a hint of the things Noel kept carefully guarded, and to make it even worse, Noel's unique mutation of his nervous system had kept him from getting a hangover, while Gar and Victor had lain around the entirety of the next day groaning and moaning. That had actually been a good day for her, as she had looked after Gar and he had seemed to appreciate it…but once again, she just could not find the right words…

Well, maybe she could use his constant musing. He HAD been with Raven a while now: he probably had some concept of romance. Then again, maybe he would just see it as girlish silliness…and if he actually said that to her face, she was going to shove a rock where the sun didn't shine.

"Uh, Noel?"

"Yes?" Noel replied, lowering the paper. Tara suddenly felt her cheeks flushing. She dearly hoped it was slight embarrassment of asking Noel for his advice about this, much like a child would get embarrassed when they had to ask their parents for advice about sex. She didn't even want to consider the possibility that she was now developing OTHER feelings…nah. She was just embarrassed, and besides, Noel's last name was Collins, not Stu.

"I was just wondering…um…you know, we never really got to know each other, what with one thing or another, and I just have to…"

"Oh god, you're coming out of the closet, aren't you? Why does everyone always come out to ME?" Noel suddenly complained. Tara felt shock pervade her system, and she opened her mouth…and then realized where she had heard that before, and the shock was replaced by irritation.

"Oh funny. Ha ha Stewie."

"Just trying to relax you Tara. You seem pretty tense." Noel said.

"And you've figured out why?"

"I have a fair idea." Noel said. Tara sighed.

"What did you do?"

"With what?"

"With Raven! I've heard the story. You and her had great difficulties as well. How did you get around them?"

"Well…great patience, perseverance…understanding…"

"I've already done all those things! And you and Raven is not the same as myself and…and…"

"Garfield?" Noel said.

"…Yeah." Tara said. "You weren't around for the first times, what with the Grant sisters and the other…thing. It seemed inevitable then. But…life just happened, you know? And now we're back here…and the sparks just won't fly any more. What happened?"

"Time, I guess." Noel said. He debated being blunt and just saying what he suspected: that Gar's feelings and hesitations mirrored Tara's and all she would have to do is say she liked (loved? Maybe not QUITE there yet, but…) him and ask him to kiss her, and that would be it. But then again, Tara always had some insecurities with a lot of things. Perhaps now that she had her powers under control, it had transferred to her feelings. Hence, being so blunt might just scare her.

So, if being up front wouldn't be productive…what situations helped break down these kind of barriers?

An idea occurred to Noel.

"Tara…as you said, Raven and I had problems. She was linked to her father, and her feeling things caused problems and even deadly danger. I thought I could get around that…but it was hard. On our first Valentine's Day, that is, the first one with us being on the same team, I tried making her a Valentine. She tore it up. That almost ended it right there. It was pretty hurt and angry about the whole thing. It was actually Kory that told me I might be giving up too soon…and she was right. There was something there…but what actually brought it out was later that night…the Lord had made his first appearance, back before the god abilities, and Raven and I had to stop him. In the process, he zapped her with a taser and literally killed her as her heart stopped. I gave her CPR to revive her…it worked…it actually worked more then I expected as she turned it into a kiss. True, she ended it almost immediately and the two of us basically spent several months struggling with how we felt…but the point is…it was just the right time. Everything matched up: the situation, the actions, the closeness, what came before…maybe you and Gar just need to find, or be found, by your own version of that. Chlorine is deadly poison to humans in a pure state, and sodium reacts violently to water, but if you combine the two, you get sodium chloride, aka table salt. But you can't just throw sodium and chlorine in a bowl and then dump it on your food. You have to do it the right way…or in some cases, things just have to happen."

"And how will I know if they have?"

"I think you will. Like I said, this is just personal recollection. You might need something different. But sometimes all you really need…"

* * *

"Is a crisis like this one." Nigel said.

"I dunno Nigel. How do you know Tara will go for it? She might bristle at the traditional knights and princesses approach. And despite how I feel, even I know that we really shouldn't be turning this problem into an attempted springboard for…"

"Yes yes yes Gar, you're focusing on the wrong thing. My point is, basically, if you can't express how you feel to her directly, do it INDIRECTLY. Watch her back in a fight. Support her. Show her that you're rock solid, so to speak. Maybe that will accomplish what you can't seem to do with verbiage."

"But don't relationships that get started due to extreme circumstances not work out well?"

"Well…it…why does that sound familiar…wait, you are quoting one of those films with that wood actor!"

"Wood actor?" Gar said, arching an eyebrow.

"You know, he is so bad at showing emotion…Keenen something…"

"Keanu Reeves?"

"Right, him! You are quoting that film about that bus that had to speed around the city, keeping its speed over fifty, and if its speed dropped, it would explode…what was it called again?"

Gar facevaulted.

"I don't know. The Bus That Couldn't Slow Down?" he said sarcastically.

"Was its title that long?"

Gar facevaulted again. Nigel sweatdropped.

"Getting back to the point…it just might need a trigger Gar. Could be you helping her out, could be a crisis…hell, she may LIKE being rescued. The ideals of those women who seem to think all men are evil doesn't apply to everything you know." Nigel said. "But I have one suggestion that could definitely work."

"What?"

"Get showered. The bathroom is free and your fur, dare I say it, can cause an unpleasant odor when mixed with your perspiration."

Gar looked offended.

"He has a point BB." Noel suddenly said from the doorway. Gar looked at Noel, then at Nigel, and then hmmpphhed and headed for the bathroom.

"You need to get dressed Nigel?" Noel asked.

"I am." Nigel said, tilting his garishly colored hat.

"Right, stupid question, along with "Are You Colorblind"?" Noel said. "So, offering Gar romantic advice I see."

"Yes, much like you were in the other room with Tara."

"What? How did…oh right." Noel said, looking at Nigel's huge ears. "How did this happen? How did you and I wind up playing cupid? It's not in our job description."

"You find it aggravating?"

"Yes…"

"Well LAH-DI-FREAKING-DAH!" Nigel suddenly yelled, as he seemed to hunch over. He began pulling at his pants, as if he was trying to keep them at waist level. "Listen here Mr. Savior, you may think that trying to help two teens who like each other but can't find the way is annoying, but let me tell you, I am 38 years old, I am divorced, and I LIVE IN A VAN, DOWN BY THE RIVER!"

"Very nice Chris Farley."

"Thanks!" Nigel said, standing up straight again from his mimicking of one of the late comedian's recurrent SNL characters.

"You watch too much Saturday Night Live though."

"Blame it on the Blues Brothers." Nigel said, this time referring to Dan Akroyd's and the late James Belushi's suited and sunglassed characters whose movie Nigel had watched in the same time frame where he had met Sophie, which had started his addiction to the late night comedy show. Noel recalled the time around Christmas that Nigel had tried to sing Adam Sandler's Chanukah song. He felt sorry for the guitar after it was done: instruments like that were not meant for clawed aliens.

"It still doesn't help our problem…"

"Who whoa, PROBLEM? Hold it buddy." Nigel said, stepping over to Noel. "YOU were aware of the situation beforehand." Nigel said, poking Noel lightly but firmly with the point of one of his claws. "You TOLD me. YOU picked the team. YOU are the reason the two of them are here. You could have picked Cyborg or Starfire to be the "heavy hitter", but no, you picked Terra, which indicates you had at least SOME desire to see this through."

"I thought putting them together in a small personal mission would be enough, I didn't expect to have to play Cyrano!"

"This doesn't require any performance on a musical instrument!"

Noel facevaulted.

"Look Savior, you have put this into motion, and you have a duty, as the leader and as a teammate of the two, to see if you can help them find happiness. If you DON'T want that responsibility, well, too bad! So you better help with the playing stupid…"

"CUPID."

"Right, or next time I examine you, I will INSIST on a proctology exam first."

Noel narrowed his eyes. Nigel crossed his arm and held his gaze.

"Fine. I'll give them whatever expertise I can. I hope that they pick the bed next to YOU when the combination of repressed lust and teenage hormones finally ignites. Now get ready, we have to be at City Hall in twenty minutes." Noel said, and turned to leave the room.

"Oh yeah!" Nigel said, pumping an arm. "I have become one of the few to talk Savior into doing something he did not really want to do! This is a great accomplishment! A grand achievement! A momentous deed! There is only one way to truly express it: LIVE FROM NEW YORK, ITS SATURDAY…"

A Shimmer hook swung back and yanked Nigel away from the front of the nonexistent camera with a yelp.

* * *

Toby Garigen raced along at a swift controlled pace alongside the road, his legs pumping and his breathing controlled. He rounded a corner and, in one swift motion, grabbed the small water bottle he had tied at his side, squirted one quick stream into his mouth and two on his face, and then reattached it to his side without losing a beat. The cold water cooled his face, but only for a short bit as he ran on. It had rained late last nice, and Toby wouldn't mind if it did so again, it would keep him cool…but he'd have to be careful or the cold would make his muscles cramp out…

And then the van by, the tire slashing through the large puddle on the road and sending a large spray of dirty water up and onto the sidewalk…right onto the spot Toby had been standing a second ago.

"Missed me!" he yelled after the van, loving his reflexes.

The van didn't even notice as it drove on. Had Toby, who had returned to his run, actually given it a closer look, he would have seen it was a news van. And the reason it had caused such a large splash was because it was in a hurry.

And so it drove through the streets of Light City. Had the reporters in the van been local, they would have found the place easily, but the Cauterize story was starting to rise above the local level. In this day and age, with superheroes protecting all the real hot spots for crime, that took some doing. But Light City had no superheroes of its own, only a killer metahuman, and that kind of problem in a city that didn't have its own built in solution was what attracted attention. Well, at least until some do-gooder actually stepped up to the plate and got rid of the villain, but that was the mass media: find the fodder and when it's done move on to the next source.

And it was the kind of attention that made Mayor Tercero forget all about the anger of his…friend, Stephen Pierce. While the local media had long ago learned that writing the wrong story had consequences (The ones that hadn't been "learned" had left Light City in search of greener pastures, leaving a core set that had no problem doing what it was told), having people kiss your ass because they were terrified of repercussion got old after a bit. But now, Tercero had a wider stage, one he could show off on to the entire world. He had managed to get some territorial metahumans to come and help, even more impressive considering they were teenagers! What a wondrous leader he was!

(True, he kind of hoped Cauterize would kill a few hundred more people before the freaks took him down. That way, he'd get all the credit. After all, he just brought them here, it was up for the mutations to take care of their own, and since they clearly had some degree of incompetence in that…but what could you expect in teenagers anyway? Maybe after it was all over he'd suggest in an interview that having teenagers protect a city wasn't very responsible…)

The makeup people were finishing tidying him up, while nearby Roman stood, furiously writing a new speech by hand. Tercero had decided on the way that the speech had written for him was junk and told his deputy to write a new one. Of course, Tercero planned to use the old one, which was fine, but he had seen the ambition in Zoneman's eyes. It had to be ground down and snuffed out by tedious tasks. He didn't want to have to make "the call" to Pierce, Stolen was good with his tasks and his compliments. He'd hate to lose him, god knows what the NEXT loser would be like…

Maybe like this, as Roman suddenly leaned over, groaning. Annoyance flickered across Tercero's brow.

"What's wrong Conan?"

"I told you sir…I have a bad stomach flu…flaring up…washroom…"

"You have to finish the speech!"

"Have sir!" Roman said as he handed the paper to another aide and then ran for it. The aide handed it to Tercero, who looked it over.

"Hmpm." Tercero said. It was indeed a brand new speech, and neatly written in Dunagan's immaculate penmanship. The kid sure could write fast…

"Your honor…" Said another secretary. "The superheroes are here."

"Excellent." Tercero said, standing. "Come people, we have a weary city to reassure." _And Stephen Pierce._ Tercero added mentally. He was pretty sure Pierce was watching.

After all, he was the one who had told the mayor to call for the conference in the first place.

* * *

(Writer's Note: Just so you know, there were no typos in that above segment. Tercero is just REALLY bad at remembering names of people who don't concern him.)

* * *

"Let's get something clear. We will not answer any questions." Savior said.

"What? Why?"

"I refuse to give the sharks their blood. We stay on the podium for five minutes at most, so if you don't want us to suddenly take off in the middle of your speech, we suggest you keep it short. We came here as a favor to help take care of the vigilante, not because you think you made us. We might be young, your honor, but we've seen plenty of the world. Remember that, before anything."

Tercero blinked, wondering if that was a threat. In the old days he probably would have been able to tell, but years of working with Stephen Pierce had dulled his instincts for such things. Instead, he reverted to what Pierce had taught him, as he tossed on a happy face.

"Ok then! Let's go!" Tercero said, clapping Savior on the back and guiding him along. Beast Boy gave him a sidelongs glance and noted Savior's annoyance and disgust. He almost smirked. Poor Noel. Life seemed to go out of its way to put him in uncomfortable situations. He remembered that just before this, the four of them, having finally retrieved Tim's car from the police station, had driven around for twenty minutes before they had found a place to park it. It was a good thing the parking meter they had stopped in front of was broken. Or Savior probably would have broken it himself.

Scalpel was going over his twin bladed staff weapon known as a glaive, and satisfied that it was working perfectly, folded it up and placed it on his person within easy reach. He had a gut feeling that he was going to need it.

Terra was staring into the window of a cigar shop, as Scalpel approached her. He thought she might be looking at some magazines in the window, as many cigar shops also carried lots of magazines. As he drew close to her however, he found that there were just the usual nicotine-stuffed death sticks that were the stock and trade of the tobacco industry. Nigel personally didn't get it: plenty of tests show that unless you possessed exceptional genes, smoking would ultimately prove hazardous to your health. So why did so many people do it? Well, their choice and all…but Nigel didn't understand why people who so willingly corrupted their own cells. Then again, maybe if he smoked a cigarette he'd understand. Then again, it was the kind of understanding that was similar to jumping off a cliff: Nigel KNEW that would be fatal, he didn't have to do it himself to know that.

So why was Terra…

"You think these might work?" she asked, turning to Scalpel, who arched an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You know…maybe a…" Terra said, mimicking lighting a cigarette and puffing on it. "Might give me an air of glamour and…" Terra trailed off when she saw Nigel's horrified look. "What?"

Nigel didn't reply. Instead he just drew himself up and fixed Terra with a look that said it all: Surely You Are Smart Enough So That You Don't Need ME To Tell You. Terra looked at Nigel for a few seconds, and then it dawned on her.

"My god…it's getting so bad I actually considered taking up smoking in some far flung idea it would help. What's WRONG with me?"

"Oh nothing Terra. You're just young, impressionable, and filled with certain feelings that can cloud one's judgment…in any case, I think we need to be going, away from the shop filled with the cigarettes…"

"Oh don't worry Scalpel. I won't be taking up smoking in THIS life." Terra said, as she and Scalpel walked away.

* * *

Not as many reporters as he had expected, Savior mused from the podium. Apparently the story was still trickling out. The trickling might yet become a full-blown torrent, but Savior wouldn't be at any of THOSE press conferences. Let the idiot and most likely dirty mayor preen for the cameras, Savior had made it very clear that he'd only be doing this once. He hoped his teammates shared the same feeling, he was going to get REALLY annoyed if he turned on the TV and saw them on it when they should have been tracking down Cauterize.

Not just many reporters, but most of them were local, who Savior had noticed were strangely taciturn. Strange. Probably the leftovers of the same purge that had led to Elijah getting kicked off as editor of his paper. And that was just a SCHOOL paper. Savior hated to think of what had happened to people in the LEGITIMATE media. His anger stirred in him. Goddamn Stephen Pierce and all he had done by taking advantage of a city in decline…

But, of course, there were media people from more national sources, but all of them were mostly at the back, struggling for position and trying (and failing) to get closer. Savior couldn't help but wonder if that had been arranged as well.

The mayor had begun talking while Savior was doing his pondering, but Savior tuned him out, working on his internal clock and waiting for the mayor to finish. If he didn't in time, Savior WOULD just leap off the stage and swing away, who cared if it made Tercero look bad?

Beast Boy was standing next to him, looking uncomfortable at the camera flashes. Savior felt for him. Scalpel and Beast Boy were standing side by side, and most of the people were taking pictures of them in the old "Look at the circus freak!" tradition. Scalpel was holding one clawed hand before his eyes to block out the bright flashes (his species didn't much like bright lights). Terra was behind the two, looking even more uncomfortable then her would-be boyfriend Beast Boy (and there was ANOTHER headache. Noel didn't have time for silly games, maybe he should just go with his plan of locking them in a room, he was sure that would be all it would take…)

Savior sighed inwardly and scanned the crowd again. Around the crowd were the finally reorganized police forces, under the command of their new chief, a big black man with a very loud voice. Turnquist, his name was, though Savior had met him for all of ten seconds before he had literally been dragged away by the Mayor's people. But Savior had gotten a good feeling from the man. This was a man of character. How long that would last in this city that courted damnation a little more every day, Savior did not know. Well, the police officers were certainly as alert as they could be, and Noel knew that there were undercover officers in the crowd…well, undercover to the public, Savior recognized some of them.

Including Chesbro, who was off to the right. He looked as bored as Savior felt.

Savior, out of the last fragments of general respect he afforded every human until they lost it as well, did not check his watch. He estimated there were about two minutes left. He let Tercero's voice in: the moron was talking about how great this was for his city. Idiot. What would be great for his city was a full-fledged enema that would get rid of HIM as well. But then again, cities seemed to loathe leaders. Why else would they forever elect politicians in the same ever-vicious cycle?

His eyes slid over to Chesbro again, and then focused on him. Chesbro was no longer paying attention; instead he seemed distracted by something. Then, as Noel watched, he actually turned and began pushing his way through the crowd. Where was HE going? Had he seen something? Did he need to use the washroom…or maybe…

Savior tried to follow him with his eyes, but Beast Boy accidentally leaned over too much and jostled him, startling Savior in his high-strung state, and when he looked back Chesbro had vanished.

* * *

"…may seem to be something to fear, it was said by a great man that there is nothing to fear but fear itself, so why should we fear some…"

Chesbro grimaced. He wondered if Tercero could even give the name of the man who had made that famous quote (Franklin D. Roosevelt). This was the type he was trying to protect? An egotistical coward that had nothing of substance behind his veneer but was far too good at his job to let the majority of the voters see behind it? What was going…

Something winked at the corner of his vision.

Chesbro immediately forgot the mayor as he tried to figure out exactly what he had seen in the corner of his eye. It had looked like…

He caught it again, in a better view. A very quick flash of light, like the sun being reflected off a mirror…

Coming from the top of the ten-story building across from the podium.

Chesbro's eyes narrowed. He did not have a good feeling about this, and when he had a bad feeling, bad things usually happened.

He began heading for the edge of the crowd, hoping he could make it in time.

He was near the edge with a sudden spell of dizziness overcame him, and he stumbled. Goddamn, not NOW. He had to do his job, he could sleep later…

* * *

Flint Baker may have looked like an ape in human clothing, and said look may have spoken accurately about his intelligence, but Flint had plenty of animal cunning, and it had carried him well enough in life. He was no dim-witted goon who smashed whatever his boss pointed at. He had been in the Marines, and he had learned plenty there before the assholes had court-martialed him on trumped up charges and kicked him out. But that was fine with him. Working for Mr. Pierce better suited him anyway. He was good at making him happy. When Stephen Pierce was unhappy, Flint was unhappy. And that insolent white haired teenager had made his boss very unhappy.

But Flint would fix that, as he peered down the scope of his rifle. As mentioned, he wasn't an idiot. Pierce had had his people do their own research about the four Teen Titans who had come to the city to stop Cauterize. He knew about Savior's talent, the Shimmer, and how records showed that it had an almost supernatural sense of danger when injury threatened its base, the nervous system.

But Flint was fine with that. He wasn't going to shoot the teenager in the head anyway. No…he was aiming for his right knee. The Shimmer wouldn't be guarding THAT area, and a hollow point bullet through the knee would teach the teenager not to treat his boss like he was some low-level gutter trash that deserved to be kicked around.

This was Mr. Pierce's city. After he no longer had a leg to stand on, maybe Savior would learn that important lesson and go back to playing kid's games in his town while Stephen Pierce did what he did best.

(True, he could always call in the woman he was supposedly seeing, who might or might not have a healing talent, you could only get so much information in one night…but the teen would still have to live with the agony until that happened. Flint had shattered his kneecap once, and HE, who had taken a lot of pain during his life, had been driven to tears from the agony. So he could only imagine what having your kneecap blown apart would feel like…)

He had been lining up his shot while he was thinking, and now he finally had it, and the superhero expected nothing. Flint smiled to himself. Mr. Pierce would be very happy…

And then something was blocking his vision.

Something black.

"Unsporting."

Flint jerked his head up from the sight, looking up at the form of Cauterize, who had somehow snuck right up to his side and placed one of his blades in front of the scope to block his view, and in the back of his head Flint's brain took in the visual info he had managed to process, that Cauterize, as this was surely him, was a shrimp and Flint could easily take him…

Cauterize's metal enclosed fist hit Flint 136 times before he felt the first blow.

* * *

The scream ran through the air.

Had this been a normal press conference, the clamoring of reporters would have completely drowned out the noise, but as mentioned, Light's City's local media had been cowed long ago, and there had been no racket as Tercero had finished his speech and Savior had prepared to give the signal to leave.

All shattered by the scream, which rang out suddenly. The Titans all jumped to attention in the strange, stay-in-the-same-spot way that people do when they register danger but can't figure out where it's coming from.

And then Savior saw the body falling, thrown off the roof of the old, worn down office building that was in front of them, and his body instinctively reacted, as he started forward, his team seeing the movement and following him, even as on the heels of his reaction came that realization that it was pointless: the falling body was already halfway down and there was no way Savior could move…

The body hit the ground in the distance, even as the figure's forever silenced screams began to spread to the crowd.

And Savior stopped at the edge of the platform, his teammates also slamming on the brakes (they were surprisingly in tune today…)

"Wait…!" Savior said.

His realization came in record time.

But what happened was in the realm where records mattered nothing.

A bolt of red and black zapped down the building that the man had been tossed from, actually beating the falling form to the ground as it hit the street and did a perfect 90 degree turn, running alongside the perimeter of the crowd, and then another 90 degree turn almost immediately at the edge of the group of people as he reached the side of another building, zapping up and along the side of the building and back down to the street before gravity realized that it was supposed to kick in, reaching the side of the podium as Noel's brain began to process the action that would result in him saying "Wait…!"…

And he dashed across the platform, the sudden wind burst knocking over all the mayor's people and the Titans themselves.

The only one it didn't blow over was the mayor.

That was because he was gone, carried away, as the bolt of color hit the building across from the other one and went straight up the side of it, defying gravity once again. You would have expected the bolt to zap up the side of the building and then curve onto the roof.

It didn't.

It kept going up, straight up off the side of the building and up into the air.

* * *

Mayor Tercero never knew what hit him. One second he was hearing a scream, and then the next one was a blur…

And then he suddenly felt wind on him. Lots of him, blowing at his face and coat, as he tried to figure out what had happened, where had he…

Then he glanced down.

And screamed, his fear utterly overriding his many years of practice regarding his voice, turning his shriek of fear into an amusing high pitched Chris Rock in _5th Element_ noise, as he realized he was no longer on the ground but far above it, seemingly floating up…because someone was holding onto his suit front.

He looked, and shrieked again when he saw the black-glass gaze of Cauterize.

"Hello, 'your honor'"

And Cauterize reached up with his other hand, even as the drifting upward motion of the two slowed almost to the point of stopping, and flipped up the front of the helmet.

Tercero's eyes went wide.

"YOU…!"

"Yes." Cauterize said. "You've been bad Mr. Mayor. I know that all too well. This is going to be a nice town…and to ensure that you can't be here. But relax! This is what you've always wanted! Tonight, you'll be all over the national news…because you'll be all over the pavement."

"BUT I…!"

"Goodbye your honor."

And Cauterize slammed his hand up in a Speed Force charged uppercut that smashed into Tercero's chest, breaking a few ribs even as it threw him even farther up with another scream, even as Cauterize's upward momentum finally ran out and gravity began to reclaim it's errant child.

Cauterize flipped his mask back down and re-sealed it, and as he began to fall he put his hands in front of him. In normal motion he might have looked like he was making shadow puppets, but at high speed the movements produced a powerful wind that blew Cauterize backwards as he fell. The ground far below was replaced by the skyscraper that Cauterize had run up's roof, but it was still quite a trip down, one that would surely kill him…

Has he not begun flapping his arms, like the old comical joke of people trying to fly. Except that at super high speed, this actually worked. Somewhat, as Cauterize didn't have the body and bone structure birds had that worked with their wings to allow flight. But it was enough to slow him down. A few high-speed spins bled off more downward speed, enough so that when he hit the roof at an angle, it was more at a long jumper's speed then a human falling to his doom speed. He still lost his footing on the landing, but a quick roll and he was back up. He smiled to himself, pleased that he had actually pulled the tricky aerial maneuver off.

As he watched Mayor Geoffrey Tercero plummet to his sure doom.

Then his eyes caught movement.

He sighed. The so-called superheroes were making a move. Apparently the girl hadn't gotten the message.

Fine. He'd spell it out.

* * *

"MAYOR TERCERO!" someone screamed.

The Titans looked up as they finally caught the high-pitched screaming that had until then been drowned out by the crowd, which was panicking. Terra and Beast Boy were trying to use their abilities to prevent a stampede that would surely lead to mass death, while Savior was trying to figure out what had happened.

Until he heard the yell, and he looked up to see a small form falling towards the streets of Light City.

But this one, he could catch.

"I GOT HIM!" Savior yelled, as the Shimmer sprang out, grabbing hold of a light post nearby and hurling Savior up, as he slammed the Shimmer into the side of the skyscraper and tense for the following jump that would pull him up to Mayor Tercero so he could…

"No you don't."

The blow hit Savior before the sentence was half done, striking the teenager so hard that he was literally thrown for a loop, spinning in mid air, even as the red and black blaze zapped past him after the blow, hit the street, ran across it and up the building on the other side, drew parallel with the still-reacting-to-the-first-blow Savior, and then in a manipulation of momentum, exploded off the side of the building and flew through the air, his fist striking Savior and sending them both smashing through the window behind the no-longer-whirling teen. Savior went crashing through a wall behind the window and through some desk furniture, even as Cauterize tucked and rolled from the punch and sprang to his feet…

As Savior began another bounce from the impact…

Within a second, all the people on the floor Savior had crashed into were on the bottom floor.

And Cauterize was right back on that floor.

Phasing through several walls and other objects.

All the windows on the floor exploded outward as massive explosions detonated from the disrupted atoms, even as Mayor Tercero fell past the windows.

As a red and black blur zipped from the building just ahead of the explosions, beat Tercero back to the ground, and sprinted towards his landing position.

Right over a TV truck.

Which Cauterize phased through.

The truck exploded, flames gouting upward and engulfing Tercero moments before he crashed down into the flaming wreckage with a gigantic crunch. A follow up explosion detonated immediately afterward, giving Tercero a jump boost to whatever he had earned in the afterlife.

And Cauterize stopped, the explosion detonating behind him.

He took a deep breath and smirked as one last blast blew behind him.

"Mr. Mayor, you're off the air."

Another explosion detonated from above, from the skyscraper floor that Cauterize had ravaged to get at Savior, and the building began making a scary creaking noise. Terra turned her attention from the finally dispersing crowd to the building, and with a curse flew up to it, huge rocks trailing her. Hopefully she could wedge something together before the fire softened the steel structure to the point of collapse…

And Savior exploded out of the flaming windows with a scream, falling down to the street with a flip and landing, the impact driving him to his knees even with the Shimmer.

Cauterize stared at him.

Savior got up, his outfit shredded in several places and a slight burn on one side of his face to add to the cuts and bruises he had suffered from the shrapnel. He glared at the vigilante speedster, who simply returned his look, all expression blocked due to the helmet.

Savior's hand curled into a fist, the knuckles popping.

The Shimmer lines swirled around Savior, and perhaps reaction to his rage, the normal shapes had formed into creatures, snapping dragonheads that hissed and snarled at Cauterize.

"Hmmmm." Cauterize said, in interested speculation.

Savior snapped back his arm.

"GET OVER HERE!"

And he fired the snapping dragon lines at Cauterize, who watched them approach…

And then he was gone just before impact. Savior immediately switched tactics and turned the spearing Shimmer into a whip that lashed to the side, spinning to the right in a circular path and smashing through everything in its way, including a few cars, as Savior tried to catch Cauterize in the area effect…

The line slashed past the 180 degree point, and if Savior had been able to see things in the movie style of "bullet-time", he might have seen Cauterize leaping and spinning in a tight corkscrew over the lashing line. But he didn't. All he felt was the impact as Cauterize uncoiled his body and lashed out with a spinning roundhouse to the side of Savior's head.

Savior's head snapped back from the impact, the impact spinning him on his heel…

And Cauterize was there in front of him, ducking under his body and pistoning a vicious uppercut into his upper chest that knocked Savior right off his feet, his legs spinning up as his torso swung down. He might have completed the flip and landed on his chest…

Had Cauterize not zipped around him again and smashed both his fists into the upside down form of Savior and sent him flying across the road, crashing back first into the nearest building before he crumpled to the ground.

Cauterize emerged from his Speed Force assisted state and took a deep breath as the slowly falling Savior (in his perception anyway) suddenly sped up a lot as he hit the ground. Cauterize cracked his knuckles and rotated his wrists, wincing a tad as he rotated the right one.

"GRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Savior bellowed, pushing himself up and sending dozens of Shimmer lines at Cauterize, lancing and twisting and burrowing underground at him, all of them trying to grasp him, if only for a split second…

It was too bad Savior's eyes couldn't comprehend the gymnastics act Cauterize did as he ducked, dodged, leapt, rolled, skipped, spun, and avoided every single Shimmer strand with ease.

All Savior felt was a slight tug before he suddenly saw that all the lines had been grabbed and tied in a knot, a knot that was now being held by Cauterize.

"If I was anyone else, I would cut this to cause you pain." Cauterize said.

And then he was up against Noel, his metal-laced fist slamming into Savior's sternum. Savior's eyes went wide with surprise at the sudden change of strategy, even as his wind whooshed out of his mouth, carrying a stream of bloody saliva.

"But I'm not anyone else." He finished.

And he cut looses, blitzing Savior with hundreds upon hundreds of blows, hammering him so bad the stone wall behind Savior began to crack and give from the impacts, as all of Savior's strategy, experience, and self vanished in the endless impacts that pummeled every part of him.

And then it stopped.

And Savior fell to his knees and then onto his face.

Silence, as the body lay at Cauterize's boots. Then he reached down and grabbed the hair, and then he managed to yank Savior's dead weight up and prop him against the wall via pressing his arm to his throat.

"Leave this place." Cauterize hissed. "You will only lead your teammates to your doom. You have no idea what is going on, and you have no RIGHT to try and…"

"IIIIIIIIII-YAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Scalpel yelled as he came flying down from his leapt, his glaive slashing down…

And catching one of Cauterize's arm blades as it suddenly appeared in his hand, blocking the downward strike.

Though due to Cauterize's back being turned to him, Scalpel didn't see his mouth grimace with strain.

"Finish this after him." Cauterize said, and removed his arm from Savior's throat. Savior crumpled to the ground, and although he was very much alive, he was pretty much dead and buried, if you understand.

Scalpel had landed from his leap, his hand expertly sliding down the glaive as he did so to properly maintain the pressure. Cauterize kept his arm locked, preventing the weapon from descending. But the limb was clearly tingling, the sign that the muscle wasn't up to the task of permanently stopping the downward slash and was starting to give in. Which was understandable: Scalpel was one of the strongest Titans.

He smirked, showing off his huge canine fangs.

"So…can't take the heat eh?"

Scalpel was smashed backwards by the blow to his face that was actually twenty delivered so fast Scalpel couldn't make out the individual impacts, and even as he stumbled back Cauterize ran past him, stopped, and ran back, ramming his elbow into Scalpel's side. Scalpel let out a gasp of pain and stumbled a few steps before stopping. He expected another follow up blow, but none came, and he looked up to find Cauterize was standing there, looking at him.

Blood began to drip from Scalpel's noise, and he lifted up one of his claws and checked it, and then lowered it.

"You cut down those who cannot even begin to defend themselves and then run back into the shadows from whence you came. So I wonder…are you a warrior looking for a challenge…or a coward?" Scalpel said, giving his glaive a twirl and putting himself into the second Blacktrinian combat position.

Cauterize cocked his head.

"Either answer me or kill me where I stand. Then the world will know your character." Scalpel said.

Cauterize didn't reply.

Instead he brought the arm clutching the blade he had used to block Scalpel's original strike to the gauntlet on the other arm and withdrew the blade's twin.

And Scalpel had his answer.

"YAHHHHHHH!" Scalpel said, leaping forward.

Cauterize dodged to the side, but slow enough that Scalpel could actually see him, but Scalpel had known he was going to miss and reacted according, doing a tight right side roll that brought his blade behind him slashing in a wide arc. Cauterize blocked the blow with both his swords and spun, slashing down, but Scalpel got his glaive up and intercepted, his leg thrusting out in front of him for a kick, but in a blur Cauterize ducked under the leg and, grabbing it as he rammed his shoulder into the knee, threw Scalpel over him to the ground. Even as he landed, Scalpel pistoned one of his clawed feet out, but it hit nothing but air. He rolled as a blade stabbed into the ground near his head and slashed his blade out in another wide swing that caught Cauterize's sword in the middle…and made him stumble two steps.

Scalpel felt the knowledge he had just learned fed into the warrior state he was in. Cauterize was so very impossibly quick…but he didn't have much in the way of physical strength.

That meant he could win!

Scalpel planted a hand on the ground and spun up, swinging out both his legs in a move that mirrored a combat style known as Capoeria, but Cauterize was back on his game immediately and dodged it, leaping over the low roundhouse slash that Scalpel followed up with. Scalpel rolled with the failed blow again, coming up and spinning to block another slash. He felt this blow: Cauterize was using the Speed Force behind that. But not enough, as Cauterize stepped back and began slashing his blades around, slashes that Scalpel blocked with expert twirls and pokes from his weapon.

Cauterize's mouth turned down in a frown. Scalpel gave him one of his grins, feigning false confidence, and then transformed his apparent move into another one almost instantly, the glaive swinging up in a deadly arc.

The edge whistled an inch past Cauterize's helmet.

The blow had caused Scalpel to stick his knee out though, and he felt a slight pressure as Cauterize ran, stepping on Scalpel's knee, then his shoulder, and then leaping off as he slammed the heel of his foot into the back of Scalpel's head. Scalpel fell forward, but he held on to the glaive as he pulled an insanely tight tucking roll, losing his hat in the process, as Cauterize spun and hurled one of his blades at him. The glaive caught it and knocked it away, impaling it into a wall as Cauterize landed.

Scalpel kipped up to his feet and looked at the killer vigilante, who was now breathing heavily.

"Care to slow down?"

The blades crashed together in a shower of sparks as Cauterize attacked again, and Scalpel shoved the blade aside and tried for a gutting move, but Cauterize was already at his flank as he slammed his free fist into Scalpel's side before Scalpel spun and tried yet another roundhouse slice, one that Cauterize ducked as he swept his leg out and tripped Scalpel, the quickster spinning up and trying for an impale before Scalpel whirled back up, spinning both his legs and his glaive in a deadly cutting dervish that drove Cauterize back, but he didn't stay back long as he lunged in with a stab that he turned into a sideways slash that Scalpel caught with the middle of his glaive as the blade slid along the side due to the angle, causing Cauterize to lean in just a bit…

And Scalpel snapped out his hand, and suddenly he had Cauterize by the arm.

"…HUH?" Cauterize said.

"You…"

Scalpel really shouldn't have spoken.

Because suddenly he was holding onto a maelstrom, the king and emperor of all jackhammers, as Cauterize turned his powers inward and vibrated his molecules at speeds that could barely be measured. The vibration was so intense it actually threw Scalpel back several feet, which was good, because even if he had held on he would have been shaken to pieces. He hit the ground and fell, his glaive clattering to his side.

Cauterize wasn't paying attention to him. He was looking at his arm, that Scalpel had somehow managed to grab, and though the grip had been short Scalpel had started squeezing the very instant he felt something, and Scalpel had a very tight grip, not to mention very sharp fingers.

Cauterize stared at the slight cut in his outfit as blood began to flow in a slow stream.

"………..You touched me." He said.

Scalpel was getting to his feet, trying to recover from the brain-scrambling feeling of holding a Speed Force user that had moved his body in a way impossible for normal humans.

"You…actually…touched me."

Cauterize looked at Scalpel as he retrieved his glaive.

"…………Huh."

Cauterize's shoulder and arm slammed into Scalpel and pistoned him backwards as Cauterize grabbed a handful of Scalpel's front and ran with it, smashing Scalpel through the walls of the bottom floors of two buildings before he slammed him back first into a thicker wall that didn't give, sending a gigantic shockwave through Scalpel's body.

"I understand the whole concept of noble combat, but quite frankly, in the end it's just little more then a kid's game, and this city has no time for games." Cauterize said. "But if you want to play a game…"

Cauterize flexed his right fingers and inch long blades snapped from the metal lattice he used to protect his hand.

"Tick…"

Cauterize slashed his hand across Scalpel's face, leaving shallow surface wounds.

"Tack…"

Another slash, this one vertical.

"Toe."

The blade snapped back it as Cauterize cocked his fist back and nailed Scalpel with 234 blows to the face within two seconds. The wall crumpled behind Scalpel and he fell on his back as wreckage collapsed on him, burying everything but his legs.

A brief blurring of Cauterize's image gave the impression he hadn't moved, but what he had really done was zip over to where his other blade was stuck into the wall and retrieve it. And considering how fast he moved, he could have probably gotten a drink of water as well, who knew?

"Now go to sleep. Maybe you'll have more of an understanding when you wake up." Cauterize said, and sheathed his blades into the gauntlets.

And Beast Boy leapt at him, this time hedging all his bets on the fastest animal form in the world: the cheetah.

Cauterize dodged without effort as Beast Boy landed, turning with a low growl.

"75 miles an hour. Please." Cauterize said, as Beast Boy returned to his normal form, giving Cauterize a dark look.

"Go ahead then. Show how great you are. I'll even help your wretched ways, I won't even fight back."

Cauterize chuckled, and then he was suddenly in front of Beast Boy.

"Now…where's the sport in that?"

Beast Boy recoiled a bit. Cauterize cocked his head.

"Well?"

Beast Boy's combat instincts kicked in, as he fired up his self DNA-manipulating abilities and turned into the largest grizzly he could muster (his abilities were limited in a sense that he HAD to become animals that existed as they were. If he tried to modify the forms, like making a bear that was, say, fifteen feet tall, his unique viral mutation would reject it, and while it was possible to hold the form, the strain was so intense that it basically rendered Beast Boy worthless…with a few rare exceptions…but this was not one of them), and with a growl he slashed at Cauterize.

Who dodged, as Beast Boy expected, and countered, slamming a few dozen punches into Beast Boy's huge flank. But Beast Boy had guesstimated this move, and that was why he had become a bear: the creature's incredibly thick muscle and bone. Though Cauterize was delivering so many blows at high speed, the bear's natural padding reduced the impacts (well, more like impact, as they were delivered so fast Beast Boy's senses read them as one blow) from bone shatteringly fierce to painful but mostly annoying.

And Beast Boy used it, as he swung again. Cauterize again dodged and countered, but Beast Boy shrugged off the blows as he tried something a bear would not ever think of: a backhand (that was the advantage of taking animal forms while maintaining human intelligence). He had hoped that might work, but it didn't: Cauterize dodged it and hammered blows into Beast Boy's chest and torso. It hurt, but it was a pain Beast Boy could take, and he bared his teeth at Cauterize in the closest thing he could manage with the bear's visage to express mockery.

"Am I being attacked by a mosquito?" he taunted, and slashed again. Again a dodge, again a counter, again nothing. Cauterize reappeared in front of Beast Boy, breathing heavily. Beast Boy attacked, slashing with both paws, and he felt a surge of elation as he felt his claws just catch slightly on Cauterize's outfit. The bastard was slowing down, he was tiring, and all he had to do was get in one good hit…

On the vigilante who was now gone, a line of fire burning away from Beast Boy.

"Ueh?" Beast Boy grunted.

Cauterize stopped in the middle of the field that was several miles away from Light City. He lifted up his hand as his metal lattice snapped over the fingers.

"I'm going to bet he really regrets saying that." Cauterize said to no one is particular.

The field exploded with a sonic boom as Cauterize blasted back towards the city, breaking the sound barrier immediately and blasting through the Mach's as he headed back to his target.

It was a good thing Beast Boy hadn't turned back into a human.

Because being in the bear form was the only thing that saved him when Cauterize blasted up the street, turning the tar beneath to molten slag as he blasted up to Beast Boy and hit him while going at Mach 10.

Beast Boy exploded backwards, smashing through every single window and wall of the buildings behind him for nearly a block, even as the force of the blow shattered every window on the street that Beast Boy had been standing on when he had delivered it. Much could be said of Cauterize's power, skill, and abilities that he had been able to deliver such a blow without reducing his arm to a shattered ruin…but as said, the manipulations of the Speed Force were legion.

Beast Boy finally ran out of impetus after a block and a half and his huge form hit the ground and dragged alongside it, leaving behind a few fur tuffs. Blood began to pool from the bear's snout as Beast Boy whimpered and turned back into his normal form. He bear form had saved him from more serious injuries, but Beast Boy was so bruised and banged up he couldn't have cared less.

Cauterize appeared over him, and carefully nudged him with his foot to flip Beast Boy onto his back. He knelt, gently placing a knee on Beast Boy's chest as he looked into his dazed and blackening eyes.

"Maybe YOU will listen." He said. "Get. Out. Of This…"

Rocks flew at him, boulders the size of suitcases fired faster then a speeding bullet.

Cauterize vanished before they hit him.

The rocks exploded into pebbles.

And Cauterize appeared behind Terra before she could even lower her arms from the first attack.

"Slow learner I see."

Terra slashed her leg behind her in a reverse heel kick and hit nothing, as expected, as Cauterize blurred away. She snapped down her arm and slammed her fist into the ground as a hundred shards of stone snapped up and began whirling around her in a furious dervish that would have sliced and crushed a man to nothing.

She saw a blur moving through them and twisted, two big hunks of concrete breaking up as she tried, with every bit of skill and effort she possessed, and every bit of rage at what Cauterize had done to Beast Boy, her friends, and all his other victims, to get him.

Her rocks exploded, throwing her backwards. For all her motivation, Cauterize was beyond such things, as he had phased through both rocks as she was noticing her presence. The rock storm ceased immediately as Terra flew backwards, and then her endless training kicked in as she flipped and turned around, a chunk of rock ripping out of the ground and sliding up parallel to her feet. When her soles hit, she'd flip the rock 90 degrees to right herself and go into the air, where Cauterize…

Flashed passed her, and with her feet still four meters from the rock, a blade snapped out, far quicker then her eyes could see, and carved the boulder into dust, the blade going back into the gauntlet as Terra was about to hit her former perch…

And instead hit Cauterize's fist as he slammed his hand through the now shattered stone, breaking it as if he had super strength as well as speed, and smashing his palm right into Terra's chest. The connection of two such fierce momentums gave Terra the brief sensation of being crushed between two walls before the force of Cauterize's second blow overrode the force of his first initial blow and sent her flying backwards again. She hit the ground and bounced a few times before coming to a stop.

She coughed, as blood welled up from within her and spilled out her mouth.

"Misery, misery, misery." Cauterize said, walking towards her. "Tercero is dead child. He was dead before you could even begin to protect him. What do you do now? Try and find someone else to protect? Child, that is not only pointless, but worthless. This town was nice once, and it will be that way again, no matter what stands in my way. Now tell me…do you really want to throw your life away, for this?"

Terra coughed again, and then she slowly pushed herself up, her blood running from her mouth like a vampire that had just fed, as she wiped it away with one of her gloves as her eyes alit with golden power.

"That's a question you should be asking yourself."

And Terra clenched her fists as she called to the earth, feeling the earth respond, wondering if this was just some last pointless defiance, because if Cauterize wanted her dead her heart would be pierced or her head removed before she even knew what had happened, but if she was going to die, it was going to be on her feet, and fighting for her cause…

Beast Boy felt the ground vibrating, and he summoned the strength to roll over and pull himself up, ordering his brain to stop making his body hurt, he had a job to do. His talent instinctively reacted by turning him into a gorilla, an animal that had been known to be able to take huge amounts of pain. As his new nervous system processed the damage and lessened it to a point so that he was able to think clearly, he snorted, and then he turned into a pterodactyl and began beating his wings.

Cauterize had stopped again, and had crossed his arms, watching Terra, seemingly with amusement. Rocks began to rise up around her. Poor girl, she never learned…

A brief flicker…

Cauterize dodged back a step as the glaive slashed through the air where he had just been, burying itself in the ground at an angle, his head jerking up to the sight of Scalpel hanging from a lamppost and grinning viciously at him.

And then it happened.

The ground behind Cauterize suddenly buckled and rolled up like someone shaking up a rug, sending cars and everything else positioned on the street flying like Tinker Toys, and even as Cauterize turned and tried to re-access his enhanced state, it rolled underneath him and hurled him up into the sky.

"LET'S SEE YOU RUN ON THIN AIR!" Terra screamed, as Beast Boy swooped in and Scalpel spun on the lamppost and hurled his body at the vigilante, having spent much more time in non-flight situations then Cauterize ever had…

"YEE-HAH! CAN YOU FLY SUCKER! CAN YOU?" Beast Boy whooped.

Though Beast Boy could not hear Cauterize's reply, it was "I don't know, will this do?"

Because Beast Boy didn't have time as Cauterize righted himself in mid air, thrust out his arms at 90 degree parallels, and began to spin, his form dissolving into a blur instantly as he rotated more times in a second then most car tires do in an hour of driving. And the insane speed caused the reaction he wanted, as the air around him was dragged into his rotation and began to twirl as well, building upon itself far faster then it could in nature.

The end result was within two seconds of Beast Boy's errant taunt, he and Scalpel suddenly found himself in the midst of a full-fledged tornado.

"GAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Beast Boy yelled as the intense winds swept him up and he lost himself in them. Scalpel had suffered the same fate, and with a scream Terra was swept up into the maelstrom as well, unable to get away in time or resist the power Cauterize had brought into being.

The tornado grew even larger, sweeping up cars, newspaper stands, trash cans, and everything else that wasn't nailed firmly down, the debris battering the Titans inside the whirlwind, as if they were inside a blender with blunt blades. The tornado grew even bigger, ripping into the sides of the buildings around Cauterize and just adding to the debris as the Titans spun and spun and spun…

And stopped, as Cauterize touched down on the ground, canceling his gyrations.

The tornado died instantly, everything coming crashing down to the ground around Cauterize, the proverbial raining cats and dogs. A few things landed where Cauterize had been standing, long after he had moved, of course.

And the Titans hit the ground as well, lying as still on the ground as any piece of wreckage.

Cauterize looked around. Scalpel had landed on the roof of a car and nearly gone through it. Beast Boy had returned to human form and it didn't look like he'd be changing to something else any time soon. And Terra lay on her back, as if she was just looking at the sky…except the truth was her muscles were so battered she couldn't use them to move.

"So…is the day saved yet?" he asked, looking around in the way of someone who gave the pretense of wanting answers to questions he already knew the answer to. "Anyone? Hello?"

A crack rang through the air.

Cauterize snapped up his hand and caught the bullet that had been fired at his back, not even bothering to turn around for the task. He cocked his head as he brought the bullet closer, as if he was fascinated by it. And then he started to turn around.

"FIRE!!!!!!!!"

Cauterize turned into an onslaught of firepower that rivaled even the one he had faced two nights before. Except this one wasn't being caused by a cowardly sycophant desperately trying to escape the fate he had chosen with his decisions, but a general who had mustered his troops and brought them to bear against the enemy. Unofficial Chief Garry Turnquist might have sympathized, just a bit, with what Cauterize was trying to accomplish, but to him, murder was murder and he had to do what he had lived his life by. And he did, not hiding behind his troops of police, SWAT, and anyone else he had managed to round up when Cauterize had sent the press conference straight to hell but standing and firing right beside them.

A brave stand, by men and women who knew they were up against and faced it anyway.

Not that it made a whit of difference.

Cauterize began his dodging, this time like the Agents of the _Matrix_ films, leaving afterimages as the bullets blasted and streaked by him, as if they were gently tossed softballs. The bullets hit everything behind and around him, but Cauterize remained elusive.

However, the firestorm did have one positive effect as it somehow lit a fire under the Titans who moments ago had wondered if they could ever walk again, if only because they had to move or risk becoming the victims of the attack. Scalpel cursed and shoved himself off the car he was on in an awkward leap seconds before sparks from the ricocheting bullets ignited the gas tanks in the car, causing it to explode. Terra thrust up her arm and a rock barrier sprang up before her mere moments before bullets began thudding into it, a similar one protecting Beast Boy as the air roared with noise and more cars exploded from the barrage, the intense heat causing a chain reaction among other vehicles and turning the street into a level of hell as more and more explosions rocked it. In the corner of his eye, Beast Boy saw their car, the one Robin has loaned them to drive up here, now on it's back and half crushed from the fall, explode into a ball of fire from the chain reactions.

"Dude, not AGAIN." Beast Boy whined.

And abruptly it ended, as the last of the SWAT Team ran out of bullets. The officers didn't hesitate this time: they were already reaching for new clips and slamming them in, as Cauterize stopped, his form coalescing back from the blurry state it had been in.

"Not bad." Cauterize said.

The ends of all the police officers' guns flew off seemingly at the same time, as Cauterize's dash and slash happened too quickly for individual cuts to register.

"Not good enough though."

All the police hit the ground at the same time, the difference between the blows Cauterize had delivered to the backs of their necks in nanoseconds, or virtually none at all. From standing tall to in the dirt, in the time it took to blink an eye.

Cauterize reappeared. He snapped his left blade back into his gauntlet, and then he actually leaned down, placing his hands on his knees as he took deep breaths.

The cock of the gun was very loud in the silence.

"Don't move."

Cauterize turned his head to look at Garry Turnquist, who had somehow gotten back up. He may have been getting older, but he wasn't getting any weaker, as he squared his body in the classic shooter's stance and kept his gun perfectly motionless as he aimed at Cauterize.

"You are under arrest. Drop your weapons and put your hands on your head."

A crazy request, you might say. How could someone actually make one after all they had seen Cauterize do?

Cauterize knew that reality all too well, as he smirked slightly.

"My dear captain, do you really expect me to give up?"

"It'll be easier then if you keep doing this." Turnquist said, even as he thought of his sons, grown and at colleges that were away from Light City, and if their last meeting was going to be their LAST meeting, and his wife…Vanessa, together 27 years and he loved her as much as ever, he had been afraid that what he has chosen to do with the department as it would risk harm coming to her, but if he had given into that fear he would not be acting like the man she had married, and now it may have led to his death, not from the dark shadows that strode to choke his city but the costumed vigilante who wanted to cut all the rot out no matter the consequences…

"Do you actually think that you are what this city needs?" Cauterize replied.

"…Yes."

"You would think that." Cauterize said, and suddenly his blade was in his right hand.

Turnquist began squeezing the trigger, but the bullets met the blade before they struck their target, Cauterize knocking them out of the air and away from him as he walked towards Turnquist at normal speed, but Turnquist would not retreat, he would stand his ground no matter what because he had been backing up for far too long…

The gun clicked dry, and Turnquist instinctively dropped it as he reached for his nightstick…

Only to realize that times had changed, and a move had had honed for decades was worthless as he no longer carried a nightstick…

And then the blade was on his throat, the razor sharp edge biting, ever so slightly, into the upper lay of skin on his Adam's apple, even as the hand he had used to reach for the weapon was seized at the wrist and shoved down, even as the black glass of Cauterize's helmet reflected his expression of surprise and fear, the helmet hiding Cauterize's own expression, which could have been a dozen things…

"After what you did, be grateful this is it." Cauterize said.

And then he yanked the blade away and spun it around, intercepting Scalpel's clawed hand, the sword striking between the alien's two talon fingers as Scalpel tried to twist the blade out of his hand, but Cauterize was simply too fast, ramming several dozen blows into Scalpel's sternum, opening up a long ago inflicted wound that never seemed to heal properly, even as he yanked his sword back and backhanded Scalpel at super-speed, even as Turnquist made for one of the guns on the ground and had just begun his ducking leap when Cauterize's hand slashed into the side of his neck, and he hit the ground, knocked cold.

"Then again, how could I ever do worse to you?" Cauterize asked.

He ran backwards as rock spikes erupted from the ground where he had been standing, dodging away from a leaping Velociraptor claw kick and an immediate followup anaconda encoiling before he spun away from another glaive throw. Beast Boy didn't give up, charging as a rhinoceros and hitting nothing but the wall as Cauterize zipped to the side and then zapped back in a Speed Force assisted shoulder ram that sent Beast Boy tumbling along, even as Cauterize ducked under a leaping kick from Scalpel and charged at Terra as thousands of pebbles flew at him, dodging around them as he snapped his arm out and clotheslined Terra, and even as her feet were leaving the ground blasted over to Scalpel as he was turning and slammed his elbow into his forehead, and then back over to Terra, who was now parallel to the ground, as he laced his fists together and slammed them down on her stomach, sending her crashing down.

But as she hit, she lashed out wildly, and the ground erupted and buckled and shattered as she sent a wild array of commands into it. Devoid of rhyme or reason, the instructions quickly merged into a low level earthquake that caused parts of the street to ripple, break, and buckle even more.

Cauterize was already on the run through, as he tried to get back to Scalpel to put an explanation point on his attack of the alien as well, except he had to dart aside as long squid arms grabbed for him, his mouth curling in annoyance as he tried to dodge away…

And then he stumbled, Terra's wild talent outpouring having made the ground rough and broken. Cauterize immediately snapped himself out of his "zone" to recover and Beast Boy managed to grab him.

He regretted it though, as Cauterize immediately spun in Beast Boy's slimy tentacles before he could tighten his grip, generating intense heat in an instant and forcing Beast Boy to let go. The pain caused him to turn back into a human being, even as Cauterize tried to get back into form…and then Scalpel was there, clawing and slashing at Cauterize as the rough ground impeded his dodging and forced him to walk backwards to avoid tripping again, even as Terra started getting back up and Beast Boy prepared to transform again as Scalpel drove him backwards…

"ENOUGH."

And Cauterize leapt up, spinning until his feet and head had done a 180-degree switch, and then he slammed out his fists, catching both Beast Boy and Scalpel in their faces. They hadn't been closing in on him, he'd been luring them into a trap, and it paid big time as he smashed his metal laced fists into their faces, throwing them backwards, even as he began twisting to land, he slashed out his leg in a precise pattern at such a high speed that he fired off a blade of wind that slashed at Terra, which would have surely cut her in half had it not been aimed at the ground in front of her rather then her person, the manipulated air slamming into the concrete and triggering an eruption of force that threw Terra backwards, even as Cauterize landed from the leap and snapped out his blades, even as he took a breath…

And the line lashed out, coming from nowhere, and catching Cauterize clear across the face. His helmet front exploded into a hundred black shards as the impact snapped his head back and threw him, causing him to hit the ground, even as he recovered and rolled with his momentum.

As Savior swung down, and his fellows recovered from the last attacks as they all prepared to attack…

As Cauterize looked up at the man who he thought was finished, only to return and catch him when it really counted…

And Savior saw a face behind the helmet that was covered by a black ski mask, the only thing peering out from the hole he had made one eye with an intense gaze with an undertone of great anger.

"I SAID ENOUGH!"

The four blows were as one, as Cauterize struck hard and above all fast, the time between the separate attacks virtually nonexistent.

Indeed, time seemed to stand still as the attacks came.

And then all the Titans blasted backwards, even as all the windows once again exploded from the impacts, all the young heroes hitting the ground among a shower of broken glass.

Then, stillness.

And then Cauterize reappeared (as in, slowed down enough for the human eye to see him) about ten feet from the fallen teenagers.

He took a few deep, gasping breaths, holding his chest, and then collected himself, as the rage in his eye faded and was replaced by a cold calculating front. He looked back over his shoulder.

"Next time, I won't be so nice. There better not BE a next time. Ta again." Cauterize said.

And then with one final explosion of sound and a line of fire erupting from the ground where Cauterize had run, he was gone, as if he had never been.

Except the evidence to the contrary showed was far too strong…

As Beast Boy, blood running into his eyes and everything in his vision splitting apart and blurring, somehow got up and raised a fist.

"Hey wait…we're just warming…"

And then he fell backwards, landing with a small thud and not getting back up.

None of the other Titans were moving as well, nor was the Light City Police Force, nor was anything in Cauterize's battle zone. All that remained was wreckage, human and otherwise.

* * *

"So much for the late Mayor Tercero's great solution to the problem." One of the police officers said bitterly, as he looked at the mess. By now backup and rescue vehicles had finally braved the area where the battle had taken place now that it was clear that Cauterize was gone.

"Goddamn freaks. All of them." Said another.

"Shut the fuck up soldier." Came a sudden growling yell, and the two speaking officers, as well as several others who were clustered around the ambulance where paramedics were examine the police, jumped and looked at the Unofficial Chief, Garry Turnquist, who had refused treatment as he went around to make sure his people were all right. They seemed to be, on the attack force front anyway, but Cauterize's abilities had caused a great deal of damage, and there were more then a few people who had been caught in the chaos.

"They did their best. Until you can do any better, keep your trap shut." Turnquist said, looking at the ambulance where the teenagers were being treated. The paramedics there were currently looking at the leader, who was sprawled on a stretcher and looked like he WISHED he were dead. The alien one was up, barely, and he was examining the only female of the group. The green skinned one was sitting nearby, staring off into space, perhaps due to the severe concussion he had most likely suffered during the fight. Far be it from the invincible fighting force that Tercero had painted them as. They looked a lot more like teenagers then titans at the moment.

The officer gave him a dirty look.

"ARE WE HAVING A PROBLEM OFFICER!?!?!?" Turnquist roared.

"SIR! NO SIR!" The police officer replied, instinctively reacting like a recruit might to the drill sergeant voice Turnquist possessed. Truth was, he didn't much like yelling, but as the Unofficial Chief of Police, he needed people to focus on the last three words rather then the first.

Now more then ever, because with Tercero not only dead but killed right in front of a large crowd and the media without anyone being able to do more then provide more targets for Cauterize to attack, the city's descent was going to become a freefall. The citizenry would panic, especially after what had happened to the so-called superheroes that had been sent in to protect them, but that wasn't the worst. What was the worst was that Stephen Pierce would finally realize that this might be something that all his connections and puppets couldn't protect him from, and he'd start lashing out in panic himself, which would surely lead to innocent people getting hurt or killed. Turnquist grit his teeth. Cauterize, that self righteous bastard, running around like he was a god that possessed all the answers, not understanding in the least that he was just making the city disintegrate faster then it already was, but Turnquist would be damned if he just let this place, his HOME, fall apart…

And then he heard people reacting to something…his people. He turned and saw why.

Approaching the group was Jonathon Chesbro, abet the worse for wear. He was clutching the left arm of his trench coat, which was shredded and bloody. No…no clutching, gripping something.

"I could use some help here." He said, stumbling. His fellow officers rushed forward at the stumble, grabbing him gently and helping him along to the ambulance, where he sat down.

"Let me through!" Turnquist ordered, pushing his way to Chesbro, whose arm was being looked at. Turnquist finally saw what Chesbro has been gripping: the end of a strip of cloth that he had tied tightly around the top of his arm. A tourniquet.

"What happened? Where were you Chesbro?"

"I saw him." Chesbro said.

"Saw who?"

"The vigilante." Chesbro said through clenched teeth as the paramedics cut off the arm of the coat to reveal a blood-slicked limb. Some of the officers made slight noises of shock at the injury. "It's ok. Worse then it looks…I hope…"

"You saw him? How?" Turnquist said incredulously.

"I was in the crowd…saw something flashing on the top of a building." Chesbro said. "I thought it looked suspicious, so I went to investigate. But the crowd was too thick, couldn't go through them, so instead I went into the building on the side of the road. I was hoping to use a side door to get back out and hence go around the crowd…except no sooner did I get into the lobby when a huge group of people suddenly appeared in it."

"Appeared?"

"Out of thin air. But it wasn't. Just before it happened I got assailed by a bunch of wind gusts. That, and from what the people were saying…I think the vigilante took them from the building and put them there, for some reason."

Turnquist couldn't give him an answer, but if Savior, who was currently having his eyes examined as best the paramedics could, as they were pretty much swollen shut by now, had been nearby, he could have. Those people had been the ones that Cauterize had removed from the floor he had punched Savior into so he could use said floor as a weapon.

"Anyway, no sooner did I recover from that surprise when I heard the chaos outside. I would have gone back out…but the people were scared and confused…so instead I decided I'd get them out. So I led them all to the side door I was going to use and was seeing them out…and it was just about done when something pushed me."

"Pushed you?"

"I had my back to another door. Something pushed me back and through it. At the time I was looking at the backs of the people I was seeing out of the building, so I thought a group might have come from behind me and shoved me through in their panic. So I got up, noticing I was in a bathroom, and opened the door…and I just happened to glance back…and I saw him."

"You saw his face?" Turnquist asked.

"I wish…" Chesbro said, and grit his teeth as the paramedics began cleaning the wounds on his arm. "I think he shoved me in when he was going into the washroom. Maybe he was going so fast he didn't notice me. I was just turning around when he stepped out from inside one of the stalls…he was pulling on a ski mask or something."

Turnquist's heart sank. The only glimpse of the vigilante under his helmet and it was when the bastard was putting on another mask…wait a minute…

"Why was he putting on a mask?"

"I don't know. That was pretty much all I saw. He turned his head, I think he was about to slip on his helmet, maybe he wanted to do it normally so he could look in the mirror and make sure he didn't make any mistakes…or maybe he was resting…I don't know…I started to take a step and then he was gone. He ran past me and in the process he hit me, threw me into the mirror. It shattered, slashed my arm up pretty good…I came to in a pool of blood. Anyway, I managed to tie off my arm so I didn't bleed to death and headed out…and I found this. I assume the vigilante got away."

"You assume right Detective." Turnquist said darkly.

"And the teenagers?"

"Weren't any help. He thrashed them."

"I thought so." Chesbro said, and winced again. "So, will I live?"

"Looks like it detective. You didn't appear to have severed any arteries…just a lot of minor surface cuts. You should be ok." The paramedics said.

"Ok, bandage me up then. Hurry." Chesbro said.

"Sir, you may need a doctor…"

"I'm not bleeding to death, am I?"

"No sir but…"

"Then bandage me up! We have things to do!"

"Hold on Chesbro. You might have more damage there then these boys can diagnose. I suggest you listen." Turnquist said.

"Hell no! We have to get moving! Collect some evidence before…"

"Chesbro…I already have men doing that. You've been hurt, let them help you."

"With all due respect chief, I don't know if I trust those men very much."

"Oh? Why not?"

"You know sir." Chesbro said, his eyes darkening. "More then a few have…other loyalties. Even if they find anything…it might be for HIM instead of…"

"ENOUGH DETECTIVE! You are to be treated and that is that!" Turnquist said, and left.

Chesbro tried to keep his face neutral, but the always-there resentment began to bubble.

He glanced over to the so-called superheroes.

"And what did you do anyway?" he asked himself, as the paramedics began to bandage his arm. "Nothing but titles and reputation…and we're always left holding the bag."

Turnquist walked away, his mind racing, carefully controlled chaos that threatened to skid off its wheels.

"Ok people listen up! I'm only going to say this once!" Turnquist ordered. He noticed one of his men approaching, one he had sent on a specific task. Good, he needed his information.

"Sir." The SWAT member said as he approached.

"What's going on sergeant?"

"The only verified body so far is of Mr. Tercero, but there was a great deal of pandemonium, even with the efforts of the metahumans, sir. Stampedes, fires, explosions…anyway, there are a few people who have been reported missing sir. We're hoping they just got lost in the commotion and nothing has happened to them…but we're still sorting through it all. Give us another hour and we're have a much clearer picture."

"Thank you sergeant. Ok people, you heard him! MOVE! We need to keep our eyes opened and our ears to the ground. Search every single building that bears a definite mark of the vigilante being there; look for anyone who might have been missed in the confusion too! GO, GO! Sergeant!" Turnquist yelled after the leaving policeman.

"Yes sir!"

Turnquist was already thinking ahead. The police department had been bad enough, but with Tercero's death ALL the city's functions were going to go to hell…unless they nipped it in the bud right now. But to do that, Turnquist needed something. Or someone.

"Sergeant, with Tercero's death, the mayorship legally transfers to the Deputy Mayor, Roman Fernendez! We need to find him now, get everything set up…"

"Sir, that could be a problem sir!"

"What? What do you mean a problem? We need him!" Turnquist said, and he meant it. Not only could Fernendez officially make him the chief of police, but as far as Turnquist knew, he didn't have any connections to Stephen Pierce. Which could be highly beneficial if the person in "absolute power" wasn't doing everything to please someone with rather dubious intentions…

"Sir…Fernendez is one of the missing."

* * *

Inside a car, eyes peered through powerful binoculars, admiring the handiwork. But eventually his interest in what had happened passed, and he turned his gaze onto the teenagers.

"Perfect." Van Toolman whispered. "Just you wait. You thought this was bad? You don't know bad."

* * *

And as another ambulance came screeching around the corner and stopped in the huge crush of vehicles that were parked at the edge of the destruction, Toby Garigen trotted out of an alleyway…and then stopped, staring at it all. He reached down and massaged his leg muscles as he watched the hustle and bustle, as people ran around and yelled and screamed and cursed and did a bunch of other things that indicated that they weren't happy.

"Man, this city really IS going to hell." Toby remarked, and then he turned and jogged away.

To Be Continued


	5. Run Ragged

Part 5: Run Ragged

"Ok…let's recap all this new information." Noel groaned from his position in his chair.

The Titans, not wanting to go to a hospital, for various reasons, had left when the paramedics had turned to other patients. Which were mostly cops. The general populace had fled the area and scattered far and wide when the battle had begun, and thanks to the efforts of the Titans, there had been no loss of life and minimal injuries when it came to them. For that, Noel mused, he could live with the pain he and his teammates were in.

His muscles twitched slightly, sending a new wave through him. Then again, maybe not…

They were now back at their hotel, which was now literally their hotel. After a detour to the police station to speak with the chief of police briefly, gather some new data, and pick up a new car, after the one Robin had given them had been wrecked, AGAIN (and for that they had gotten a clunker which was occasionally used for stakeouts), the Titans had returned to find that the few other guests the hotel had had not only checked out, but the owners and staff had left as well. Apparently, they had decided a Light City that had a Speed Force using vigilante running around was too much to handle, especially considering that he might show up at their place to finish what he had started with the heroes. So the Titans now had the place to themselves.

Not that was much of a consolation. Gar was in a corner, in the form of a gorilla, said shape taken again to help him handle the pain. Tara was lying on the bed, her ribs bandaged (her coughing up blood had been a great worry, but Nigel had not yet found any evidence she had punctured a lung. Yet anyway). Nigel was sitting in a chair next to her, ready in case he hadn't made a proper diagnosis. The chart had been set up so that all the Titans could see it…not that any of them were paying any real attention. They, like Noel, were in great pain. They'd all taken severe beatings before, but that never made it any easier.

"Mayor Geoffrey Tercero is dead. The fact that none of us could help him, or ourselves, indicates that what we theorized is true: Cauterize has had a great deal of training in his abilities, possibly years." Noel said, and winced as another wave of pain ripped through him. "This indicates a personality that shows great patience. So…I am striking Van Toolman from our list of subjects…for this moment." Noel said, pulling the picture of the coach down.

"However…this does not leave Toby Garigen as our prime suspect. No…"

Noel reached over to the new pile of papers that he had managed to gather, somehow, from the police station after the battle, considering how chaotic it had been again, as Chief Turnquist had had everyone running around double time to keep the city from falling apart completely from the latest attack.

"Based on an observation from Nigel, I have decided to add our non-chauffeur Detective John Chesbro to the list." Noel said, using the Shimmer to pin up Chesbro's picture. "Chesbro apparently ran into Cauterize for about half a second in the building Cauterize used as a catapult to send Mayor Tercero to his great reward. The vigilante was, for some reason, taking a break to put on a ski mask. The same ski mask that kept us from seeing his face when I somehow managed to surprise him. Chesbro was, however, unable to give us the exact time that Cauterize decided to do this. Now, considering his speed, it could have potentially been at any time, but Chesbro claims that Cauterize actually shifted to a normal speed when he was leaving. This does beg a few questions, like, why did he slow down to do so, and why was Cauterize putting on a ski mask to begin with?"

"Maybe in case we got his helmet off?" Gar suggested.

"Possibly, but this clashes with our observations. Cauterize is very calm and controlled. Even when he gets rattled, he's pretty reserved. I'm pretty sure he was upset when Nigel actually managed to grab him, not to mention me shattering his helmet, yet he kept it together. So why put on a mask? In such a state of mind, he should have thought he was untouchable, and even if he did do some preparation in case we somehow broke or pulled off the helmet, he could have either grabbed it back or run away before anyone saw his face. Yet he did not, because he WAS wearing a mask…"

"Can we please not start rambling? I have a headache." Tara moaned from her position.

"Ok, to get to the point…this so called observation made me suspicious. But what clinched it was the fact that Cauterize apparently tossed Chesbro into a mirror as he was leaving, and the breaking glass sliced up his arm. That was what Nigel saw. What makes me wonder…is not only was Chesbro not around when Cauterize was, as well as this strange supposed meeting of the two…but the arm that was sliced up was his left arm. The same arm Nigel managed to grab."

Brief silence.

"So you think Chesbro might have sliced up his own arm to hide the cuts from Nigel?" Gar said.

"It came to mind. It would explain where he was and obliterate the evidence in one fell swoop. Not to mention Chesbro is a police officer, so he would have access to a lot of the information that Cauterize seemingly has, and he has been said to collect knives. He might know how to use them as well."

"But Chesbro can't stand metahumans. How could he be one?" Tara asked, and winced, clutching her stomach. Gar turned human again and went over to Tara to check on her, even though it looked like he was on the verge of falling apart, literally.

"True…Chesbro has said he doesn't like our kind. But that could be an act. Or like I theorized with Toolman, he could be suffering from some kind of mental break. Turnquist said when Cauterize disarmed him, he told him that "considering what you did, be thankful this is it." That could mean some kind of inside knowledge on something…"

"What about the people Chesbro led out that caused this so called encounter?"

"Scattered to the winds. Everyone got the hell out of dodge when things went down. No witnesses that could back him up."

"Says who?"

"Says Chesbro. Or the notes he managed to make before the department sent him home "to rest". Turnquist had copies made for me." Noel said. "However, the notes weren't just of the scene this afternoon, but of the past several days. Seems Chesbro was doing his own investigations, and seeing how we don't have enough solid proof to indicate he might just be trying to mislead people…"

"Which denotes he noted that people might read his notes." Nigel said. Everyone gave him a look. "What?"

"What Nigel says, there was no way he could guess that people would read his stuff, so if all this IS just a diversion, he's either incredibly lucky or psychic or…anyway, along with Chesbro himself, we have Chesbro's prime suspect…Roman Fernendez."

Up went a picture of Roman.

"Roman also has several points to consider. He was last seen running for a bathroom just before the press conference and no one has seen him since. They are thinking he might have somehow been caught up in the mess that happened…except no one has seen him since, as mentioned, and the mess had cleared up. Now, he could have just been swept away in the madness, or maybe he was scared for his life and ran away…or he could be dead, buried under some rubble or caught in an explosion…or he might have been there all along, hiding in plain sight, so to speak."

"And working at City Hall would give Roman access to and all information Chesbro might have. Hell, considering who really ran the place, even more." Gar said.

Tara moaned again, and Gar and Nigel turned their attention to her, making sure that something wasn't happening inside her that Nigel had missed beforehand. Noel watched from his chair, ready to help if anyone asked him, but in the end it appeared to have just been a muscle spasm, and after adding a few pillows to her bed the talks resumed.

"Chesbro's notes, if they are accurate, indicate that Roman was not only an intelligent and driven fellow, but clean in a city where everyone with some power was on the take. And he didn't like where he was. He resented Mayor Tercero…and considering that Tercero is now dead, Roman is now Mayor of Light City…if he isn't dead…or the man behind the mask."

"But if he is Cauterize, wouldn't he have shown up by now to claim his new position?" Tara asked.

"True, but as mentioned, Roman is intelligent. He could just be lying low to give credence to the theory he got lost in the masses."

"It might also explain why he showed up at the morgue. He claimed Tercero sent him, but the Mayor can't account for that now, and it could very well have been a lie. If he is Cauterize, he may have wanted to know how much of an chance we had of figuring out his methods and such." Nigel said.

"Which brings up another point. He's a killer, but he is capable of mercy." Gar said.

"You call this mercy?" Tara groaned.

"He's right, somewhat, Tara. Cauterize could have killed us. Easily, as it were." Noel said, hating that reality. "We know he isn't a sadist, and if what happened is any indication, he's not a stone cold killer…at least not in matters that don't concern him. Hell, he even got into a swordfight with Nigel when he could have grabbed his glaive away from him and jammed it down his throat before Nigel knew what happened. He didn't. And I'd hardly call what he was doing toying with us…he was giving us a chance. To leave and stay out of his way. Much like the police force. He doesn't consider us an enemy, or from his attitude, an obstacle. For now anyway. But when it comes down to it, it may be the only thing we have."

"Don't forget his pauses." Gar said.

"Right. Its clear Cauterize doesn't have an unlimited amount of stamina. His efforts are tiring him out, and his use of the Speed Force apparently isn't fully picking up the slack. He may have paced himself, but we might be the monkey wrench in that plan. If we're lucky, this tiring effect will be cumulative…that, and his semi-mercy. Besides those two possibles, the best chance we have is figuring out who he is." Noel said. "Ok, summarizing all our info again…Cauterize is young, practiced but not experienced, has access to enough information to accurately plan attacks, is quite capable of killing but only if he feels you deserve to die, knows how to use blades, that Asian thing…and he wants to make Light City a nice town again. All these three would benefit in some way if Cauterize actually succeeds." Noel said, indicating the wall of suspects. "I think Chesbro would be happier if the crime in this town was considerably lessened via the deaths of all the underlings and their bosses, and I did get the sense that though he is a tried and true believer in the law, his cynicism on its failings might be on the path to hatred. Same with Roman, who isn't dirty and might want to explore his ambitions, noble or otherwise, without the people who owned his predecessors getting in the way…"

"That reminds me. I have a theory. Do you think Cauterize might actually be WORKING for Stephen Pierce?" Gar said.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Well…yeah, he is supposedly killing all of Pierce's men…including that guy who was seemingly aiming a gun at us…too bad he landed on his head and we couldn't identify him…"

"I'm pretty sure I knew who that was, and I don't think Pierce would send him and Cauterize to the same event." Noel said.

"Yeah but…what if he hasn't told anyone? Maybe it's a housecleaning. Maybe he's tired of the people he has in charge and wants to bring in new people. Or maybe…" Gar said, thought it was clear his own theory was beginning to confuse HIM as well.

"I think you're reading too far into this Gar." Noel said.

"Well, if Cauterize isn't an agent of his, why hasn't Pierce been killed yet? If Cauterize wants to clean up this town, eliminating the king of the castle would be far more efficient then working his way through all his underlings and puppets. This is a crusade, not an RPG game."

"Unless he's going for a sense of drama and wants to save Pierce for last." Noel said.

"I don't think Toby is Cauterize." Tara said.

"Why not?"

"It doesn't fit. If he tapped into the Speed Force through sheer effort in his attempt to bring his former glory back, why didn't he just subtly use the Speed Force to cheat in his runs? It would be easier to get back his crowds if he was breaking world records rather then putting on a costume and committing murders."

"Yes, but he also might want to do the running under his own effort. Earn it back. Or maybe he thinks that the only way people will come back is if they have hope again and they won't have hope unless…ARGH! No more theories! You're just making this problem impossible!"

"Don't reject her ideas just because they don't match up with yours Noel." Gar snapped back.

"I'm not! I just don't think we need to start entertaining far flung crackpot…"

"Hey, what I suggested could be the case!"

"In a badly written pulp novel maybe!"

"Oh sure, and you're putting Batman to shame in YOUR deductions. I think he could have least landed a punch before he got trashed." Tara said, sitting up.

"At least I LANDED a blow."

"At least I didn't get put in a leader position because you interrupted…"

**_"GRATRAF UYGUY WFEYT!!!!!!!!!_**" Nigel bellowed in his native tongue, Blacktrinian, which was much like German, possessing a harsh, grating, and growling manner, which made it very useful in startling people out of petty, pain induced arguments.

"WHOEVER Cauterize may be, whether he be Chesbro, or Toby, or Toolman, or The Easter Bunny, or a White Hole's deceased corpse altered through severe plastic surgery and magic tricks from Merlin, I know damn well that we aren't going to beat him or even find him IF WE FIGHT AMONGST OURSELVES!!!!!!!!!!" Nigel roared, standing up and then sitting back down as his own pain gripped him.

"…………Point. Sorry guys. We shouldn't fight at these times, no matter how much we might like to." Noel says. "By the way Nigel, what did you say?"

"Rough translation: 'Guys guys enough.'"

"Right, right." Noel said. "Ok guys…"

"Hold it…" Nigel said, tensing up. "I sense something…someone is…"

"Relax, it's a friend." Noel said, as the shadows on the wall darkened, and then out from them stepped the purple-cloaked Raven. "Right in the room. You are improving my dear."

"I would say…OH MY GOD!" Raven gasped as she gazed upon the horrifically battered Titans before her, turning to Noel and putting her hand on her mouth as she saw his face almost entirely purple from bruising. "What in the name of the gods happened?"

"We ran into some trouble." Noel said.

"More like some trouble ran into us." Nigel added.

"About ten trillion times." Gar finished.

"Noel, Tara, guys…stay here, I'll get…"

"No, no. Raven, as much as you might like to, I want Robin and the others to stay in Jump City. We're stumbled onto a real murky plot here and I don't know yet if it isn't part of something bigger. We can handle it…for now. At the moment though, your healing abilities would be much appreciated and highly useful."

"Yes…yes of course…but…" Raven said, looking at her injured teammates and friends.

"Noel, have you thought this through? You know Raven's healing ability works on her absorbing the pain of the injured into her body. We're all pretty badly hurt, can she…"

"I know. I thought this through Nigel. I may be a lousy leader, but I'm not stupid. Come closer guys." Noel said, as he carefully readjusted his position. Three Shimmer lines flowed from his hands, two from the left and one from the right.

"The Shimmer, as you know, can allow me to hook up to your nervous systems like a computer jack. I'm going to link to your brains and transfer your pain to me, so Raven can…"

"Noel, are you NUTS? You'll have a stroke!" Gar said.

"Gar, this is me you're talking to. The Lord shoved a probe up my noise and yanked out a big chunk of my gray matter and half an hour later I was ready to go another round with him. My abilities can handle nerve damage. Now, if I have a heart attack…THAT could be a problem. Now relax." Noel said, as the Shimmer flowed out and inserted each end into one of his teammate's ears.

"Noel…heart attack?" Raven asked.

"I don't think that will happen…but all the same be readeuuuuuuhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!" Noel snarled, his eyes rolling up into his head as his fingers closed over the Shimmer and his nails dug into his palms as he took the pain of his three teammates into himself.

It only took seventeen seconds for Raven to repair all the damage Tara, Gar, and Nigel had suffered, but to Noel, it felt like ten years.

"GRAHUGH!" Noel snarled as he severed the connection. Blood began to flow from his nose in a slow trickle.

"Noel!" Raven said, floating over to his side.

"That was highly unpleasant. I don't really want to do it again." Noel whispered.

"Let me heal…"

"No. You just did three people, I can wait. Nigel…check my vitals."

"Excuse me Raven." Nigel said, slipping past the goth lovely to check on his current leader. He gave Noel a thorough once-over. "Vitals are strong. I don't think you're in any life threatening danger…but that was still very stupid Noel."

"Thank me later." Noel replied.

"Yeah, I'll thank you for your stupid self inflicted suffering, you guilt obsessed dunderhead." Nigel said in Blacktrinian as he stepped away.

"What?"

"Oh, I was just saying a personal thank you for your sacrifice in my native tongue." Nigel said.

"Oh. Ok then, then I'll tell you my suggestions…"

"If only I knew if they aren't spasms of your sure brain damage, you moronic masochist." Nigel again said in Blacktrinian.

"Excuse me?"

"Just asking an old god from my planet for luck."

"Oh. Good."

"Yeah."

"Oh, and Nigel, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Guess what language I learned by hooking up to your brain, you clorbag barbanook?" Noel snapped in Blacktrinian.

"…………………..Bugger." Nigel said in Blacktrinian.

"Your opinions on my medical tactics aside, here's what I need you to do. Raven, could you help with this? We could use you."

"If Robin complains, I'll see if I can break the world record for javelin tossing via his body." Raven replied, with just a twinge of darkness.

"Ok…we have three suspects, and we may as well keep Toolman on the "off chance" department because you never know in this world." Noel said. "Gar, I want you to try and speak to the suspects, or their families, or friends, or ANYTHING you can find. If you need information on where they are, we made a contact at the school, his card is on the desk over there. He should be able to at least point you in the right direction…I hope…" Noel said.

"This card?" Gar said, picking it up.

"Yeah."

"Elijah Versaw?"

"Yeah…wait. Gar, you have your holopin?"

"Uh yeah, in my gear. Why?"

"Elijah said something about his mother being sensitive to shocks. A green boy might be very shocking to her. Bring it and turn it on before you visit, I don't really need the death of a woman on my conscience."

"All right."

"Thanks. Nigel, I got Chesbro's address while we were at the police station. Go see him, ask if you can examine his arm. If he has nothing to hide, and he really wants to bring Cauterize down…he'll help. His dislike of us aside. Hopefully."

"Tara, Raven, I want you to go to City Hall. Turnquist has someone keeping things in order there, and all the police did have orders to work with us…interview everyone you can about Roman, Tercero, anything in regards to this. And also, keep in mind that Pierce probably has people on his payroll in City Hall. They might have information we need. So Raven…if it is possible…could you mind scan a few…"

"That's violation Noel. No."

"Ok, thought I'd ask. Ok then. What you can't learn from the people…learn from the files. If they won't let you see the files, well, Raven my dear, you think you can grant us access to them?"

"Now THAT I can do." Raven said.

"Ok. I'll stay here for now, organize and put everything in order, if I need you I'll contact you via the communicators. Good luck people. Let's show Cauterize that for all his speed we can run him to ground."

* * *

He watches them leave. They seem a lot more sprightly then they had when he had last seen them. That alien must be a miracle worker…or maybe it was something else.

Only one remains. Good.

Soon.

* * *

He wonders if they know.

He wonders if he can tell them.

He wonders if it will be too late.

For him, and his city.

* * *

No one answers Nigel's knock.

He feels annoyed. Though his journey across the city via the map Noel made for him has helped him work off some of the angry energy he still has after his battle with Cauterize, a lot still remains.

It was funny. Nigel had wound up on Earth because he was too weak, by Blacktrinian standards anyway, to be a warrior, and too soft and compassionate to be a doctor for a species that regarded most of its kind as cannon fodder to be used and forgotten. On Earth, Nigel thought he'd find sanctuary and peace. Instead he found a whole new kind of hell, one he never thought he would have ever been able to endure.

But he had. Because he had friends now. Close friends, who had fought beside him and suffered for him, seen him through misery he had brought to them and not left him when his alien ways had caused fear and disaster. Had he been a soldier, his comrades would have left him to die long ago, but the Titans never did. And it was that difference that had taken him, a meek doctor, and forged him into a weapon that none of the Blacktrinian elite could have ever comprehended him being. Much like the main character of a highly popular anime, Nigel, a third rate failure in their eyes, had risen to a level that might have surpassed the greatest troops his empire had created. All thanks to the proper situation.

And while Nigel was still peaceful on the surface, caring more to be a healer and a friend then a warrior, underneath him was a highly tempered core that he would bring to bear if he needed to. And with Cauterize, he not only needed to, he wanted to.

Cauterize had won the first time, but next time, with his experience and Cauterize's possible exhaustion growing after every fight, the shoe would be on the other foot…if Nigel wore shoes that is.

He knocked again. Nothing. And there were no lights in the house.

He lightly stroked his chin with his claws. Was Chesbro out? That possibility and its meanings flowed through Nigel.

Well…maybe he'd take a quick peek.

Nigel snuck over to a window, resisting the urge to go "Deh deh, deh deh deh deh, deh" and so on with every step he took. He peered in. More darkness. Ok, how did that infiltration tactic go…

Nigel carefully traced a small circle in the glass with his claw and then gave one side a quick, hard but precise tap. The cut circle of glass spun out, and Nigel quickly snapped his fingers on the edge as it whirled and caught it, slowly pulling the piece out. He reached in, found the lock, slowly opened the window, and hopped up onto the sill. He felt down to make sure he didn't jump onto the china cabinet and make enough noise to wake up the whole block, and then he hopped in, his claws making a light ticking noise as he landed.

He carefully snuck across the floor, waving his arms, hoping he could find a wall, and then maybe a light switch…

The small lamp snapped on, revealing Chesbro sitting in the recliner, aiming his gun at Nigel.

"GAHHHHHH!" Nigel yelped, leaping up as he tried to access half a dozen reactions, which all got jumbled together, so in the end he just fell on the floor.

"Be thankful that crazy outfit of yours virtually glows in the dark, or else you'd be one dead alien." Chesbro said, and lowered the gun, setting it beside him carefully.

Nigel sheepishly got back up, looking around the room. There wasn't much. A sealed off fireplace with several pictures above it, a small TV, a TV Dinner table folded and leaned against the wall…and a wall completely covered with knives. Some were on wooden backgrounds, some were on the wall itself, and some hung from ornate sheathes.

"Pondering my supposed guilt?" Chesbro said, taking a sip from the glass next to him. Nigel expected to smell alcohol and found he did not. Chesbro had removed his coat and shirt, and now sat in a clean undershirt, his right arm carefully bandaged.

"I don't drink. Dulls the senses, and I find that crosses are easier to bear then to try and forget them." Chesbro answered for him, sipping from his glass again. Nigel sniffed again. Grape juice.

"I see that you've recovered from the fight. Some kind of alien healing ability? Or did you clone yourself, or something?" Chesbro asked.

"I'd rather ask you about your injury." Nigel said.

"Is that why you ignored the fact I didn't want to be disturbed and broke into my house?" Chesbro asked. Nigel flushed with the fact that he had done just that.

"I would still like to examine you." Nigel said.

"I don't want to be examined. If I'm going to be forced out of an investigation because of some crackpot reason, then I'm going to stay forced out. Please leave."

"Detective Chesbro…"

"My mind is made up. Leave please."

"I am asking you as a comrade." Nigel said, spreading his arms.

"Those teenagers are your comrades, not me."

"I am requesting your aid as a fellow for the fight for law and order."

"I follow law and order. You follow something else entirely…"

Nigel suddenly snapped out his arm as his glaive extended, the blade brushing up against Chesbro's chest.

"You are now being given your last chance by someone who doesn't want more people to die and has a…!"

CLICK.

Chesbro's gun was back in his hand and aiming at Nigel's face. Nigel blinked. He'd never even seen it.

"I don't want to kill you. But I won't have any regrets if I do." Chesbro said quietly.

Nigel sighed and withdrew his weapon, wondering what the hell he had been thinking.

"Nice drawing speed."

"Second in my class." Chesbro said. "Leave please. The next request won't be so polite."

Nigel folded up his glaive and remained where he was.

"I'm not going to change my mind, and if you have alien brainwashing eye rays or something, using them on me will just prove you're nowhere close to what you claim you are."

"Why do you hate us Detective?" Nigel asked. "Did someone with powers kill someone close to you? Fail someone you know? Something in that vein?"

"Actually, before I met you four, the only time I saw your breed was on the news. This has nothing to do with you, as much as what your kind does."

"Which is?"

"Come now Scraper…"

"Scalpel."

"Scalpel, do you actually think I'm going to lay out my entire life story just so you can justify your suspicion of me due to the unusual situation that happened this afternoon?"

"….Yes?" Nigel asked.

Chesbro cocked his head, and then he actually chuckled.

"Well…that is a way to put it. Fine. I was sitting here in the dark trying to sleep because I keep dozing off everywhere these days, but it seems my brain is mocking me because I find I'm not tired in the least."

"Life is strange." Nigel said.

"Actually, I think its people who are strange." Chesbro said, and took another sip. "If you turn around, you'll see some pictures behind you. On the far right is my brother Michael."

Nigel found the picture: a boy in his early teens.

"He died when I was four. He was thirteen. Spinal meningitis."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Next to that is another picture. I think you're probably smart enough to fill in the blanks after that."

Nigel looked. The picture of a family, Chesbro's. Four people. In the forefront was a smiling man and an eleven year old boy that was the spitting image of him, and slightly behind him was a woman, supposedly the wife, with her hands on the shoulders of another child who was staring soulfully at the camera. That would have been Chesbro, Nigel assumed. He was right: he did figure it out.

"Michael was the favorite?"

"The apple of my father's eye. My parents got married very young, and there was a lot of struggles. But to my dad, Michael made it all worthwhile. He was going to be everything my dad had to give up to raise us. And Michael said he was going to be too. He wanted to be president of the United States. Or so he said. You see, behind all my dad's dreams and my brother's proclamations…Michael was just another boy. Maybe he would have become more then that…but I knew him. Maybe more so then my dad. All he saw was the "going to become", not what was there. I think my mom understood it better…but she loved my dad and didn't want to hurt him. And then life decided that Michael's time had come, and he died…and so did my father. It would be a decade before he came back to us…and in that time, he did a lot of bad things, selfish things. I don't blame him for them, mostly. I blame him for not being able to move on like my mother did and focus his love on who he had left, me. But he couldn't. All he could love, for a while, was what he had seen Michael becoming…what he saw as his son. Except that wasn't his son, in the end. It was just an illusion. But he wouldn't let it go. So I was left to be raised by my mom and my uncle, who's over there at the other end."

"Turnquist." Nigel said, seeing the picture.

"Yeah. With my father unable to let go of my brother, they raised me. And he's why I'm home instead of working the case. He's trying to protect me."

"From who?"

"Take a guess."

"………Stephen Pierce."

"His two main puppets are gone Scalpel. Pierce is a dangerous man, but now that someone has struck deep at the heart of his operations, he's going to become even more so. And when men like him are scared, they grow vicious and lash out, even more so due to the people that threaten to replace the puppets. Rudy Bialas and Geoffrey Tercero were content to hand the city over to him, but now they're dead, and their replacements, well, if Roman turns up alive, don't have the same ideals. If Pierce, though we'll never prove it, was ruthless enough to send one of his goons after one of you with a gun, imagine what he'll do to us regular people. He'll want things back to normal, quickly. And since he can't stop the problem…he'll get rid of anything that might make it worse. Like the people who will cause problems in getting the proper replacements into power."

"Unless Cauterize kills Pierce." Nigel said.

"True…we'd offer him guards, except he probably already has every single thug and maniac under his command guarding his house. But as you probably know, that won't be enough. That's why I wanted to help find out who Cauterize is. But Turnquist didn't want me to. He still thinks of me of that small boy sitting outside the house crying because he can't get in because Mommy's working and Daddy is passed out on the couch. He tried to protect me then…and he's trying to do it now. I've annoyed Pierce once or twice myself, though the late Chief Bialas kept me from doing anything more, so he was content to ignore me. Now that Turnquist is in charge…I'm a prime target to warn him to back down. All right then. I'll play along for now. But tomorrow I'm going back in, and they'll have to fire me to keep me from doing my job. Even if it does involve keeping Stephen Pierce alive."

"You still haven't answered my question." Nigel said. "What's with us?"

"Ah you." Chesbro said. "My father couldn't love me until he let go of how he saw Michael. Until he did…well, no use repeating myself. Michael probably made it worse with all his promises to make my father proud. He was just a kid, he couldn't have understood…But I find that what my father did, a lot of other people do it as well. A lot do it even worse. Geoffrey Tercero presents himself as the only one who can lead this city and people believed him. Stephen Pierce presents himself as a businessman and a philanthropist and people believe him. Hell, Rudy Bialas presents himself as a leader and people believed him. Not because they have any confidence or faith in the person, but because the alternative…it's just too scary and painful for them to handle. Rudy Bialas was an idiot. Geoffrey Tercero was a spineless greedy bastard. Stephen Pierce is scum dressed up in pretty colors. But those who stand up and say that…they disappear. The reality of what these men are…most people can't handle it. So they believe the hype. They don't bother looking for substance. And as badly as these men do those things…I find that your breed does it worse. You put on long underwear and get in huge fights and profess it to be some kind of following of higher ideals and principles. Then you run off and the rest of us have to look at all the stuff you leave behind. I'll understand why people look at you the way you do. But when they look at you and see a symbol to be lived up to…all I can see is the front my dad constructed for my brother, and how he broke along with it. And if you profess that there is more, I ask for it…and you never produce it. You couldn't with Cauterize. So why should I think that you're any better then the rest of these people?"

"We're not."

"But you present yourself as you are."

"It's just the way."

"The way or the smoke and mirrors."

"I don't have to prove myself to you."

"You already did."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Decide for yourself." Chesbro said. He rubbed at his eyes. "I'm not going to let you examine my arm. This time, I must insist you leave."

"So when did this start?" Nigel asked, pointing at the wall of knives.

"My uncle gave me one when I was eleven, a hunting trip we never wound up taking. I liked the design, so I started collecting more. There's nothing else to it."

"Really?" Nigel asked.

Chesbro gave Nigel an intense look.

"I just told you my secrets. Now if you really want to disprove how I feel, you'll go out there and find the ones of the man who is turning this town upside down."

"How can I know you didn't tell me all of them?"

"You don't."

"I must wonder Chesbro, you seem like a decent fellow. Living in an intolerable place where no one wants to stand up and help, or no one can. You say we live behind a front. I have to wonder…would you put that front over you to see if you could do it better, to see what no one else wants to?"

"I don't need a mask Scalpel." Chesbro said. "I'd rather have a blindfold."

And with a quick flick, the lights went out again.

A brief silence.

"I see what they see in it." Chesbro said in the darkness. "There is a kind of peace."

"You think he sees this peace?"

"I don't think he sees anything except the person standing between him and it."

* * *

"All right, good. Maybe we'll find something there. I'll be in touch." Noel said, and hung up the phone. Turnquist was turning out to truly be a help: he had given Noel a call saying they had gotten a search warrant for Roman Fernendez's apartment. Maybe, just maybe, they'd turn something up. Maybe Cauterize's confidence had kept him from pondering that possibility that someone would search his home…

Noel reached for the papers lying around his legs and his eyes narrowed a bit as a slight gust of wind blew on them. He didn't have any windows opened…which meant…

Raven emerged from the shadows again, clutching three thick folders.

"Have any problems?" Noel asked.

"Getting them out, no, but all we really had to go on was Tara's hunches, so we have no idea if there's anything useful in it."

"She filled you in?"

"Somewhat."

"What's it like there?"

"Not as bad as it could have been, there's some police sergeant directing traffic. Since they have no idea where this Fernendez has gone, everyone's trying to figure out who's in charge…and that led to something interesting. Apparently the late mayor of this city has a safe in which he kept all his important papers. The thing is, when they got there, at least according to the Sergeant, the safe was open and empty."

"Who knew the combination?"

"Just the mayor, supposedly…but no one saw him opening the safe before he left for the conference…so it looks like it was opened afterward. By who, no one knows."

"Great. Anything else? And where is Tara anyway?"

"She's doing the talking. Still collecting info. She's pretty good at that, much to my surprise. Girl's come a long way."

"So have you. I know that teleporting here had to be taxing."

"For you? I'd cross the stars." Raven said, dumping the folders on a chair and floating lightly off the ground and over to Noel, sitting on his lap. Noel winced slightly.

"Oh. That reminds me. I'm refreshed. Time to deal with those injuries Noel. And since you were so kind to wait, you get the special treatment." Raven said, and kissed her lover. He returned it, gently, as she sucked the pain out of him and with it the injury. She barely felt it.

She broke after a bit.

"Do you know why Robin picked you to be the leader?"

"Only on the fact that I was in the dark on something."

"You turned on the hot water when Tim and Kory were having an intimate encounter in the shower."

"……………..Ohhhhh. That does make sense. But considering how the T-Tower is built, would my turning in the taps really cause the kind of problem that would be needed to make Tim so angry?"

"He thinks so…but the fact is, Tim spent so long in there that the hot water was nearly done anyway. Had you not turned on the taps, what happened might have occurred about twenty seconds later."

"When they were done."

"Who knows? Kory's spoken of Tim's…stamina." Raven said, as she reached under his neck and undid her cloak. "Time to finish the treatment."

The kiss was stronger this time, more intense. This time, Noel broke it.

"I think my wounds are healed."

"Shut up." Raven whispered, and renewed it once more, opening her mouth, letting their tongues intertwine, tasting each other, a taste that was familiar to her and yet so very thrilling.

She felt his hand on her back, pulling down the zipper, pushing her clothes down. Noel traced her hand along her back to her right breast, feeling the soft smooth skin. He traced his hand down…

Raven gasped slightly in her throat as he touched her in a far more intimate way.

What he did next made her do far more then gasp.

* * *

The lights are out.

She's in there. With him. Those two.

Fuckers.

It's time. I'll show them. I'll show them REAL pain…

* * *

In the darkness of the hotel room, lit only by very faint lines of light, Raven rose up slowly, feeling Noel as she rode him, gently, her insides on fire and liquid heat shooting through her with each move. She had missed him, these past few days, missed their conversations, missed their training sessions, missed their movies, missed their readings, missed their midnights walks, missed the feel of his face, and above all else she had so missed this…

"Oh." She gasped lightly. "Oh. Noel…yes…oh. Oh. Oh!"

And she exploded inside, each wave greater then the last.

Surely heaven couldn't be better then this…

Noel was caught in his own rapture, but deep in his head, buried under the more primal and intense state he was currently sharing with his love, a small alarm began to go off.

And as Raven lowered herself down at bit as Noel came to meet her, the alarm finally broke through the fog, enhanced by a slight, oh so slight, thud.

"What was that?" Noel asked.

"It's called…an orgasm…" Raven said breathlessly into his ear.

"No. That."

And Raven's own senses came to bear, in a way that even Noel's could not match. There was…

The door was slamming open.

"DIE YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!" Van Toolman roared, as he opened fire on the bed.

* * *

Beast Boy, though the name couldn't really apply at the moment as he now looked like a normal teenager with red hair and a freckled face, thanks to the holopin, rang the doorbell. It made a faint noise. Beast Boy wondered if that was just because of his position or the actual doorbell. The house had clearly seen better days, and though there were traces of effort in regards to upkeep, it was clear that time was winning that battle.

There was no answer. Beast Boy waited a minute and then rang the bell again. About twenty seconds later he heard someone approach the other side of the door, a few locks being unfastened, and then the door opened a crack and a teenage boy with glasses and very curly hair peered out.

"Yes?" he asked, politely but firmly, as if he wasn't annoyed at Beast Boy but would really prefer it if he wasn't there.

"Elijah Versaw?"

"Yes, do I know you?"

"Well uh…oh right, the disguise." Beast Boy said, reaching into his pocket. A brief flicker of light and Beast Boy was back to his green costumed self. Elijah blinked at the transformation.

"Oh yes, the shape changer. You must be in the town on that Cauterize mission."

"Yeah, Savior said you could help us. Did you…?"

"Look…Beast Boy was it? I would like to help you, but now is a bad time."

"Well I'll just be…"

"A REALLY BAD TIME." Elijah stressed.

"Could you at least give me some numbers or…"

"Mr. Boy, Beast, whatever, please don't take this the wrong way, but this time, I am afraid you will have to use the phone book." Elijah said, and then the door closed in his face. "Try tomorrow!" came Elijah's muffled voice through the door as he relocked it.

Beast Boy arched an eyebrow, and then he started stroking his chin.

"Well, he certainly gave me the brush off, didn't he my dear Watson?" Beast Boy said to himself in a terrible English accent. "Methinks I might want to see what was so preoccupating! Perhaps she is hot! Quick Watson, the game is afoot! Even if outside of a highly obscure Stephen King story I never actually said that…" Beast Boy said. He turned into a ferret and snuck around the house until he found a window open a crack, and then he turned into a fly and slipped in.

He flew out two minutes later, and when he returned to human form, he didn't look happy. But it was with himself that the unhappiness came from: he had stepped over the line and intruded on something highly private.

He shook his head. Guess he would have to use the phone book, and he wouldn't be pulling that stunt any more. He felt dirty.

* * *

You might think the actions and the reasons behind what Van Toolman was doing now was foolish, incredibly so.

But when you had been pushed all your life to succeed, only to have all your dreams stripped away from you by the uninformed judgments of others, to try and pick up the pieces and move on only to find that their judgments were not only ignorant but long lasting, of finding the lone place where you could still feels shreds of your pride, and to have that taken away as well by some punk mutant "superheroes" who were just in town to push people around and feel big until they caught their man, along with the fact that they had no right to be there in the first place…let's just say Van Toolman had had enough. People have murdered each other for far lesser reasons, and for Toolman to go on, the incredible slight to his pride had to be righted.

And everything was perfect. The two teens weren't bulletproof. They were in an isolated section of town where no one was around to see them or hear the shots, and they were right in the midst of fucking each other. Perfect. Now he would show them…!

A pity that someone of Toolman's admittingly great talent and drive could be so small and insecure to feel the intense need to do this, that he would lack the intelligence to think it would actually work, and the fact that he assumed that it was Noel and Tara that were an item and were the ones having sex when he had crept down the hall to have his revenge.

He was probably wrong on all three, but the last one was a sure thing, as he opened fire…

On the bed and the pillows on it, the bullets thudding through the soft material. So intense was Toolman's rage that he had fired six shots from his automatic before he realized his targets had disappeared.

"What?" he said.

He didn't so much sense what happened behind him in a five-sense way as he did sense it in a deep primal level within him. His top-level senses, as he tried to turn around, did pick up one word.

"…ZINTHOS!"

A bolt of black power blew Toolman across the room with a scream. He crashed into the wall, nearly breaking through it before he tumbled to the ground. But his fingers held onto the gun…

Which became encased in black energy and then separated into its component parts. Toolman opened with mouth to say something, except white energy lines slammed into his arms, legs, and throat, pinning him back against the wall.

Black energy plucked a sheet from the bed and drew it in front of the teenagers, even as another Shimmer line grabbed up Noel's pants. Within two seconds he reappeared, fury etched in his face.

"Well well, look who it is." Noel said, and then savagely kicked Toolman across the face (which was lessened somewhat by the fact that he was in bare feet, but not much). "The little man with the broken dreams. Trying to put your name in the books beside John Wilkes Booth and Lee Harvey Oswald?"

"FUCKERS!" Toolman screamed. Noel arched an eyebrow. He had to give the man who lay before him credit in the rage department, it never seemed to sputter out.

"Not any MORE." Noel said, kneeling down and seizing Toolman by the chin. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn't…"

Toolman spat in his face.

The glob of bloody saliva, in a way, drowned out Toolman's following screams at Noel, as the coach continued to fountain rage like a volcano. However, it didn't even match the dark pit that was opening up inside Noel, that Noel was turning an inner eye onto, not even hearing Toolman's tirade as the coach continued to act like he was screaming at a student and not two teenage superheroes that he had just tried to murder, assessing the need and coming to the conclusion that yes, this was deserved.

Whatever Noel may have done, however, was lost as a soft hand suddenly rested on his bare shoulder. He flicked his eyes towards Raven, who was now back in costume.

"Let me handle this." She said, shoving Noel aside a tad as she looked at Toolman, his anger slamming into her empathic senses. She, perhaps more then anyone, could understand how reality could be so warped in Toolman's eyes. It was truly a powerful fury.

"Why did you just try to kill my boyfriend and I?"

"GO TO HELL!"

"Oh my dear man…" Raven said, as she brought up her hand to Toolman's cheek. "Hell is just a word…"

Then her eyes glowed deep black.

**_"LET ME SHOW YOU THE REALITY."_**

It was a good thing that the hotel was abandoned. Toolman's screams probably would have woken everyone up, and probably the dead as well.

"What a pathetic worm." Raven said when she was done, pulling herself up. Noel let go of the Shimmer restraints and Toolman slumped to the ground and curled up in a tight ball, mumbling and whining to himself.

"My darling…" Noel said, as Raven looked at him. "Please scan his mind and see if he has ever done this before. And while you're at it, check to see if he's Cauterize."

"Even IF this shit could put on an act that good, nature would have overridden him. If this bastard was your man he would have surely used speed powers to escape by now. But…stranger things have happened…" Raven said, as she put her hand on Toolman's head and opened up his mind. She sifted through it for about three minutes, while Toolman continued to whine like a whipped dog.

"He's not Cauterize." She said, removing his hand. "And he hasn't committed any murders. Apparently, what you and Terra did on his field was too great an insult for him to live with however. He really has a lot of anger issues. I'd recommend therapy, except I'd rather toss him in a cell to rot."

"We have anything we can use to do that?"

"He's hit a few women."

"Why am I not surprised…" Noel said, his eyes flickering with dark thoughts.

"Shall we take him to the police?"

"On one hand yes, but on the other, the LCPD have a lot more problems then they can handle…hmmmmm…what do you think the likelihood of him doing this again is?"

"I fired enough bad mental imagery into his brain to drive him half mad…then again, people rarely learn."

"Let's see if we can make this one of those rare cases." Noel said, leaning down and seizing Toolman by his head, using the Shimmer to yank him up.

"Know this. We could kill you for what you did and no one would ever know. We could do far worse then kill you. You will leave us, and you will go home, and you will go back to your mundane life, and you will never think, or consider, or even dream, of doing anything like this to us or anyone for the rest of your life, because if you do, we'll know. We're so much more then human, you fuck, and we'll know. And what we will do to you will take a hundred lifetimes for the human race to CONCEIVE. Now get the fuck out of here before we change our minds, you piece of shit!"

Toolman did so, scurrying off on all fours like an animal, going back out the door he had come in from. A minute later, Noel and Raven heard his car start and peel off into the street.

"I hope the bastard doesn't cause an accident. That's the damn problem with pulling the evil vicious teenager drunk on power and filled with inhumane cruelty routine: it gets results, but not always good ones." Noel said, slipping his jacket back on.

"Poor man. In a sense. On the other hand, fucking bastard. He should be counting his blessings we didn't have him arrested for attempted murder."

"Eh, the case would be too weak. I mean, we're Teen Titans. Why would he want to kill us?" Noel said. He looked over at Raven. "What exactly did you fire into his brain anyway?"

"All six _Hellraiser_ movies and _Event Horizon._ I'm not sure what scared him more, the imagery or the sheer badness of the last three and…"

"Hey hey hey, Paul Anderson may be a hack and mediocre at best, but I LIKED _Event Horizon…_"

"At least he's better then Uwe Boll. He must have sold his soul to keep getting work…"

* * *

"All right people move in. Be prepared." Turnquist said into his radio. Normally, a chief of police wouldn't be leading a search warrant, but A) He was still Chief in personal assumption and peer respect only, not in official terms, and B) If Roman Fernendez was who they thought he was, the force might need his leadership. The sheer number of troops assembled was further evidence of the strangeness of this.

The apartment complex where Roman Fernendez lived was probably a year or so away from becoming the bad part of town at the current rate of decline, but at the moment it was a fairly decent building with only a few traces of graffiti to note its seemingly inevitable fate. Not like there were any youngsters out doing such things at the moment anyway. Hell, there was hardly anyone else out at all. Tonight, criminal and citizen cowered in their houses, rooms, and elsewhere, and if there was any dirty business going on, it was being done behind closed doors with an air of caution and worry. Amazing what one man can do to a city…but Garry Turnquist thought that in a negative way. He wouldn't deny the fact that the thoughts of men with senses of entitlement and dead souls feeling fear for perhaps the first time in their lives amused him on some level, but trembling right next to those scum were good honest people who did not see an avenging force but a being who commanded incredible power and a moral code that seemed to possess no boundaries.

And for that, even if it meant having to resign from this position and go back to working a beat while some ass-kisser with connections to the defacto ruler of this city, Stephen Pierce got to help in running this once happy and prosperous place straight into hell…Turnquist would take him down. Morals were inconvenient, maddening, seemingly foolish things…but Turnquist believed in them. To give them up would be to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Once you adapted the tactics of the enemy, no matter how effective and smart they seemed…you couldn't get rid of what had touched you.

In the hallway, backed up by a dozen armed SWAT members in the hallway and another 15 or so down the stairs, Officer Thomas Hoag knocked on the door to Roman Fernendez's apartment.

"Mr. Fernendez?" he asked.

No answer.

"Police Mr. Fernendez! We have a warrant to search!"

No answer.

"Ok, kick it down." Turnquist said into his radio, and Officer Hoag moved aside as two burly SWAT members moved in with the portable battering ram.

It only took one swing to break open the door, and every officer tensed, anticipating a blow they wouldn't see coming and wouldn't remember when they woke up…if they woke up at all.

But…nothing happened, and the SWAT Team moved in. It didn't take them long to sweep the apartment.

"All clear!" came the reply over the radio, and the officers breathed a sigh of relief.

"Chief, you better come up here, you might wanna see this." Came another voice on the radio.

"On my way up." Turnquist replied, and stepped out of the car he had been seated in and headed for the apartment. It was a struggle getting up the stairs, what with all the SWAT people in their bulky battle armor, and Turnquist was sweating slightly as he made his way into the apartment. The first two rooms, a living room and kitchen, looked fairly normal.

Then he stepped into the other room, and Turnquist felt his blood run cold.

It wasn't a very large room, and it was made even smaller by the sheer amount of paper crammed into it. That wasn't so horrifying.

What was horrifying was one whole side of the wall was covered with a blown up map of Light City…and that there was a great deal of drawing on the map, in several colored markers. One color, green, circled the police station, the hospitals, and the morgue. Another one, orange, circled City Hall, Stephen's Pierce's house, and the chemical factories at the edge of Light City.

And the last, dark red, circled several random areas…or so it seemed. Because Turnquist knew those areas intimately. It was where crime was a severe problem, rather then just a problem.

And areas that had felt Cauterize's touch.

"Huh. Nice of the bastard to lay it all out for us." One of the SWAT members said.

"That's not proof positive soldier. Get me a blade or a costume and then we can utterly assume his guilt." Turnquist said.

"Sir, there has to be thousands of pages here. Look." The SWAT member said, indicating a pile on the desk. Turnquist walked over to it and examined the top sheet.

It was about the late Mayor Tercero, and it appeared to be printed from the local library's microfilm. Written in the sidelines was a chicken scratch scrawl that Turnquist couldn't read properly, and the words he could read made no real sense.

Until he kept looking through the papers, and found more and more of the same. And seeing them all allowed a clear picture to emerge: it was an attempt to piece together a whole bunch of odds and ends that, all added up, painted a pretty damning portrait of the late Mayor. True, a lot of people KNEW that, but there was a certain potency to see it in writing, and in so much detail.

Turnquist spent fifteen minutes in the room, going over stuff. There was even more things, including two scrapbooks, about Stephen Pierce, as well as several minor crime lords. Another pile held a long list of theorized and proven suspects of the people on the take in City Hall and in the police station. Turnquist frowned as he came across a few names in the department that he had held strong suspicions about himself…as well as bank records and various other documents that informed him that his suspicions had been correct…if they were accurate. And on and on…

"My lord. This guy was obsessed." Someone said.

"Hell of a hobby." Said another.

"All right, all right, start boxing this up." Turnquist said, and several officers groaned. He walked out of the document room…no, more like a war room. It certainly looked like a place that could be used as a staging area for the reign of terror Cauterize had begun. And even if Roman WASN'T Cauterize, it certainly showed that he could be working with him…

"Chief." Said another officer. "Found this in a drawer next to the bed."  
What the officer had found was pornographic magazines, four in all. With a common theme. Turnquist slipped on gloves and began to examine them.

"Oriental Beauties…Oriental Beauties…Asian Eighteen…Shaved Asians…" Turnquist said. There was something funny about the way he read off the titles, even though his voice was dry and contained no humor. "These were the only ones?"

"Yes sir."

"Um….how can I phrase this…"

"They don't appear to be heavily…used sir. At least not from what we can tell."

"Still more then I wanted to here. Ok, bag them."

"Um, sir…"

"We may yet need DNA officer." Turnquist said. The man looked faintly disturbed as he took the magazines, holding them much more tenuously now.

"Anyone find anything else?" Turnquist asked. The ripple of answers only brought him a small black book, a ledger. It appeared to be random reminders of various things going back the past four months. Turnquist looked through it, but there was nothing about killings or attacks. True, he supposed the book could be in code…but that wasn't his job.

But that was it. The search, despite literally turning everything upside down and inside out, revealed no costumes, no blades, no equipment or devices for making such things.

Still…considering Cauterize's speed, he could literally have another stronghold on the other side of the country, or the world. And Turnquist had to admit, the "war room" looked pretty bad.

Then again, with his speed, was hard would it be…

No. The room wasn't just slapped together. It had looked…lived in. Someone had spent a lot of time in there, and that was something you couldn't fake.

Maybe.

Who knew with metahumans?

Turnquist hadn't had a lot of doubts in his life, and the ones he had annoyed him greatly. This was one of them, as he tried to consider the mysteries of people with superpowers…

He looked through the book again. Meetings, appointments, visits to his mother…

Something caught his eye this time. Roman had apparently visited Light City High at least once a month for the past eight months. Didn't those Titans have a teenage suspect or two? Turnquist pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number he had been given.

No answer at the hotel, but Turnquist had another number, a pre-paid cell. He called that one.

"Savior." Said a voice on the other end. Turnquist winced a tad. The white-haired leader of the four seemed like a good egg, but his name was SO pretentious…

"Turnquist here."

"Hello Chief. What's going on?"

Turnquist filled Savior in on what he had found at Roman's apartment, including the entries in the ledger.

"I admit that does sound damning, but it's also highly circumstantial." Savior said.

"Unfortunately. Didn't you have a few suspects at the high school?"

"One now. Toby Garigen."

"I remember him. The track runner. Hmmmmm…"

"The two could be colluding. Roman points the way and Toby strikes. Assuming a few things of course."

"Maybe I should put a watch on him."

"If Toby is Cauterize, I doubt it would do any good. He moves so fast that he could literally run past any searchers and they would never see him, and we can't have people jumping at every gust of wind…"

"Sir, there's a girl here to see you." A female officer said.

"Busy. In a moment."

"She was a unusual girl sir."

"How so?"

"She's floating outside the window on a rock."

"Oh. Let her in, but be careful she doesn't touch anything."

"Something wrong?" Savior's voice was saying.

"One of yours, the blonde."

"Terra. Let me speak to her."

Terra had entered the room and had made her way over to Turnquist. Turnquist didn't think the frail girl looked like much, but then again, she could supposedly command the earth to do anything. Not bad, if it was true.

"Your boss on the phone. He wants to talk to you." Turnquist said, handing the phone over.

"Hello?" Terra said.

"Terra, we've totally scratched Toolman as a suspect, just so you know. The chief has more information for you. After he's filled you in, head back to the hotel. We need to form a new plan."

"Where are you?"

"Back at the City Hall."

"I was just there!"

"And I wanted more information. No offense."

"None taken." Terra said sarcastically, and tossed the phone back to Turnquist, feeling secretly pleased that she had surprised the police chief a bit with the action.

"Tell Terra what you told me, if you can. I'm doing a second sweep of City Hall. I'll call you if I find anything important. Until then, could you not make any moves if possible…"

"Kid, this is my city. I've already issued an arrest warrant for Roman Fernendez."

"Fine. But be careful. And not just if Roman is Cauterize. From what I've heard, there are some mighty sensitive toes to tread on around here."

"No kidding." Turnquist said, and hung up. He again re-iterated what he had told Savior to Terra, who crossed her arms and listened intently.

"Your old friend Chesbro had a lot of notes on Roman. You think the deputy could be it too?" Terra asked.

"I don't know with you people. Most of your life is hiding behind one lie or another."

"Yes, maybe. But from what I've seen, I'm not the only one that may be hiding behind a lie. And I may not be the one who has to." Terra said, and left.

Turnquist watched the girl leave.

So the teenagers were having their own suspicions.

Damn it. He had hoped to keep this private.

The alternative didn't really appeal to him.

* * *

Terra walked up to the window, stepped on the frame, and leapt out. Her rock swept up from the ground and she landed, knees bending slightly. She let the rock lift her up towards the cloud-covered sky.

And in the shadows of the building next to the one Terra had left, Cauterize stepped briefly from the deep shadow, watching the girl fly off. He glanced down at the window she had come out of, looking at the figures moving within.

"Hmmmm." Cauterize said.

And then with a brief burst of wind, he was gone as well.

* * *

"Terra's being briefed, better check in with the others." Savior said on the roof of City Hall, as he flipped his cell phone closed, clipped it on his belt, and unclipped his communicator. He dialed Beast Boy first.

"Beast Boy here."

"BB, it's Savior. What's going on?"

"Elijah was a bust, he had more pressing business. Really. I went to the Garigen house, but Toby was out. His mom was rude to me, acting like I was the spawn of Satan to even CONSIDER her boy could be Cauterize."

"Those Columbine kids had clueless parents too. Did you locate Toby?"

"Yeah, about a mile and a half away, doing his training. He wasn't much better. He didn't have any idea what I was talking about with Speed Forces and attack plans, but then again, I don't have a built in lie detector. He seemed very anxious to get on with his run, even pulled out some TV show nonsense asking if I was charging him with anything. I let him go and followed him for a bit, but all he did was run. I think. I'm going to check Toolman…"

"Negative on Toolman. I have airtight evidence that he isn't Cauterize. Leave him alone."

"Uh…if you say so Savior, but are you sure about that airtightness?"

"I'd stake my heart on it." Savior said, glancing over to Raven, who gave him a slight smile. "Besides, if I'm wrong, Toolman is such a well trained actor who planned so well he DESERVES to beat us."

"Don't turn us into Jinx, as Starfire would say Semi-Leader."

"Point. Well, all things considered, head back to the hotel. I'm going to check in with Scalpel and see if anything has developed there, and do a thing or two. Should be back within the hour. If you can, try and review my notes."

"Awwww man…"

"That wasn't an order Beast Boy, but it would be very helpful."

"If you say so N-"

"DON'T USE REAL NAMES IN THE FIELD." Savior snapped tersely.

"Savior, I'm on a fifty story building's radio antenna, who could be listening?"

"Now who is risking us being transmogrified into Jinx?" Savior replied, and cut the connection. He dialed up Scalpel.

"_Qwertyuiop_." Scalpel said in his snarling native language. It was code that Nigel used after an ugly incident involving a hacked communicator and events that none of them really wanted to remember.

_"Dosssa datto top."_ Savior replied. His reply was not in Blacktrinian, but in Tamaranean, Starfire's language, and was basically him saying "I'm screwed." It was a fairly tricky system, but it worked: anyone saying anything else would result in Nigel immediately tracing the communication to see if everything was shipshape.

"What is the word?" Scalpel asked.

"Some interesting things. I'll tell you when we meet. What happened with Chesbro?"

"He refused to let me examine him. Apparently his innate prejudice couldn't overwhelm the benefits of us eliminating him as a suspect."

"Unless he thought that the examination wouldn't bring elimination, but that is neither here nor there for now. Where are you?"

"Since he wouldn't let me check his arm, I decided to check the place where he supposedly injured it. I'm there now."

"Any police?"

"None."

"That figures. Well, what they won't know doesn't hurt them, I suppose. When you're done head back to the hotel. Anything else?"

"No sir."

"All right then. Savior out." Savior said, turning off the communicator.

"You're really getting into this leader thing." Raven commented.

"Yes, and if what I experienced here is the usual indication of the life as such, I wouldn't take it from Robin if he tortured me." Savior said, latching the Shimmer onto the roof and stepping off the edge as he expertly swung into the nearest window and scared the living hell out of two secretaries. "Relax, I'm on your side. Maybe." Savior said, leaving the room. The girls had no sooner started to relax when Raven flew in after Savior, which made them scream a bit more

"Sergeant Robinson?" Savior asked to a brown haired and bearded man who didn't seem much older then 20 and was sitting at a desk conversing with three people, even though he didn't seem much to care if it was the Sergeant or not as he just kept on walking.

"Uh, yes…um, hey!" Robinson said as Savior past. "Just what are you doing?"

"Another search. If you have a problem, call your chief." Savior said, tossing Robinson the cell phone. "Which one is Roman Fernendez's office?"

"Um, the one at the end of the hall, but it's…" Robinson began, as Savior reached the door and grabbed the knob. The door didn't open, and Savior rattled the knob for a second before he seemed to accept this.

"It's locked." Robinson said.

Savior gave the policeman a wry look, and then the Shimmer shot out, pierced into the hinges, and pulled the door off its frame.

"Now it's unlocked." Savior said as he laid the door against the wall and walked in, switching on the light. The first glanced revealed a neat office, with nothing out of place…or so it seemed. Savior would decide, as he began rummaging.

"Hey!" Robinson said at the doorframe, and then looked at Raven who had walked up next to him. "Is he always like this?"

"No, he's actually being nice today. Normally he would have thrown the door across the hall and seen how many people he could decapitate." Raven said, deadpan. The officer's sudden alarmed look made it clear her joke had not been perceived as such. _Adults. We go through hell a hundred times and they still think we'll try and take over the world the second their back is turned._

"Are there any other records we could examine?" Raven asked him.

"I don't see what you could have missed the first time you were here young lady, excluding this…I guess the Chief must have found something…"

"Ahem. Other records?"

"Oh. Well yes…but there's a problem."

"Which is?"

"Well, I checked earlier. This place has a rather large subbasement which is used to store records…but it's so large and ill-maintained that it's a bigger maze then the one on Crete. You'd probably need a hundred men to find anything useful in that, or at least a golden string."

"Right. Be just our luck if a monster's lurking down there too." Raven said, and watched her love go to work.

* * *

Scalpel wasn't expecting to trip over a hidden switch that led to Cauterize's secret lair or anything in that vein, but he had been examining the so called crime scene where Chesbro had run into Cauterize for twenty minutes and all he was getting was frustrated.

There wasn't much: a crime scene closed off with one strand of yellow tape and abandoned. It was a good thing Light City wasn't New York: the place would probably have been torn apart by all the loonies that ran around when the sun went down. But here, the loonies were sleeping…or dead. Or they'd run away, or…who knew.

For the forth time, Scalpel knelt and examined the bloodstain on the floor. The dried brownish patch almost seemed to be taunting him, teasing that Scalpel couldn't just pick up a sample and suddenly know the killer's favorite food and the last time he had went to the bathroom. And he didn't know enough about blood splatter and flow to tell if the stain really did come from a bleeding person lying on the floor, or a cut arm that had been drained above the floor. The broken mirror looked genuine, but a smashed mirror wasn't like trying to position a gunshot so a murder looked like a credible suicide. The broken pieces had been taken for evidence, so Scalpel couldn't examine them. And really, what good would that do? They didn't have any of Cauterize's DNA…

OF COURSE! He had his helmet off! He may have left a hair!

Twenty minutes brought the disappointment back. He'd gone over the whole room and found nothing. And even if he had, DNA workups took weeks. They didn't have weeks…

Scalpel crossed his arm and began tapping a claw on his forehead, as he looked over the room again, trying to think if he had missed anything. He concluded that he had not. The room did seem to support Chesbro's claim…and if it was a setup, Scalpel couldn't deduce it.

Irritated, he left, wondering if he could possibly convince Robin to send Batman down for a look. Then again, he might just be getting too attached to his theories…

* * *

"No show of arrogance…hmmmm…" Gar said, looking over some papers. He was back at the hotel, and with nothing better to do he was once again running through the discussions and evidence. "I really don't know if Toby could hide that ego if he could suddenly run that fast…but…argh, where's a headshrinker when you need one?"

"Personally, I find they would just twist it around to indicate that Cauterize is doing all this because he wanted to sleep with his mother." Came a voice, as Tara headed into the room.

"Hey Tar, ain't THAT the truth." Gar said. "You learn anything?"

"They found a lot of stuff at Roman's house. Looks pretty strong. And Roman is still missing." Tara said, as she tossed herself onto the nearest bed.

"What did they find?"

"Some pornography involving Asians…but I didn't like that. There were only four magazines. No videos. Then again, they did confiscate Roman's computer. The bulk of it may be on there. But what was really strange…" Tara said, and told Gar about the war room.

"I have to admit, THAT'S harder to explain away." Gar said.

"What's to explain? Why would he have all that stuff if he wasn't…"

"He might have his own obsession."

"What? Come on Gar, don't tell me you're that big a believer in coincidence." Tara said, sitting up.

"I dunno. Chesbro's notes indicate that Roman not only has no connections to Stephen Pierce, he seems to want it so that no one ELSE does either. And if Noel said about Pierce is true, Pierce probably knows that."

"So?"

"Roman's still missing. So, does that definitely mean he's Cauterize and he's laying low for now…or do you think he may have met with foul play?"

Tara thought it over.

Gar loved her eyes when she did that…

Argh, dammit.

Wait…no one else was around. Maybe…

Well, at least if he blew it no one would see it…

"I suppose it's a possibility. If Roman was Cauterize, could he really wait this long to try and claim his position, especially considering that he's been gone so long he's now cast suspicion on himself?" Tara said. "And then again, Cauterize is so fast that…argh, this is giving me a headache. I wish Cauterize was more like the traditional super villain who tries to finish us off via a sneak attack at our headquarters, or something…this mystery stuff is driving me nuts."

"Yeah, remember when we played that Dinner game?" Gar said, which was more to distract Tara with a memory as he wrote what he wanted to say on his hand. THIS time…

"You mean the murder mystery?" Tara said. "Oh yeah, that was frustrating…"

Tara was referring to one night when the Titans had played one of those adult dinner games where everyone was given a character and one of them had murdered someone. Each one, along with their character, had been presented with a sheet of ways to act and how to accuse others in order to make the issue as muddied as possible. The second the game had begun, Noel had painted a bull's-eye on Tara's character, which wasn't one of the highest moral standing, and railed on her so badly that he had almost reduced the real Tara to tears (which was admittingly not his intention, he just got too far into the game). The reason? When the game was done, Noel's character was revealed to be the murderer. He later said it was to see how many people picked up on the "Methinks the lady doeth protest too much." vibe, but it had still driven Tara into a tizzy combined with the way that everyone seemed to be guilty of the crime. At least they only had three suspects…and of course it was possible that NONE of them was guilty…

Argh.

"Um, Tara?" Gar was saying, and Tara realized he had sat down on the bed next to her. A tingle went through her suddenly as she also realized they were alone.

"Um…er….I was thinking…we've been on the go a lot…we might need food…" Beast Boy said, trying hard not to stammer.

"Yeah…I suppose." Tara replied.

"Um…well…" Beast Boy said, and then glanced at his hand…only to find that just like the joke I am about to steal, his nervous sweat had muddied up the words. "You see…Mr. Kerns…"

Tara arched an eyebrow.

"Me want…money…plow. Me sick."

"I'd say. Instead of staring at my face like someone who is trying to hard not to stare at other parts of me, you're staring at your hand! On my god, you've been possessed by Adam West!" Tara blurted out.

Beast Boy turned crimson.

"Aw geez, um, I'll call for pizza…!" Beast Boy said, getting up and running out of the room.

"Oh, no, wait Gar wait I…!" Tara stammered, but it was too late: he was gone.

"ARGH!" Tara yelled, as the hotel vibrated. "What is going on! This seemed so easy and obvious once! How did it become this!"

Tara sighed. Well another chance lost. Guess she'd better…

No. Not another chance lost. She may have fumbled the ball again, but this time she was going to go for a save. She and Gar were alone, it might be a sign, and she wasn't going to waste it.

Enough sillyness. Time for the direct approach. I mean, what was the worst he could do?

"Beast Boy?" Tara said, getting up. She expected a reply from the next room (with the hotel empty now, all the Titans had picked out their own rooms and set aside another for their work), but all she got was silence. "Beast Boy? Hello?"

The green furred teen, who she sorely wished she could say the right words to, wasn't in his room, or in any of the other rooms. For a moment she grew worried, and then she heard noises upstairs. Oh. He'd gone to one of the upper rooms. He was probably embarrassed…

Come to think of it…what had he been saying? It almost sounded like…

Tara paused halfway up the stairs, and pondered for a moment if what she had wanted all this time was always there and she had just not seen it.

Then she grabbed a strand of her hair and pulled it in front of her eye.

"…..Nah. This is just my hair color." Tara said, and headed back up the stairs. The noises were coming from an open door three doors away from the stairs. Tara ran her hand through her hair, trying to think of the words. _Gar, I think we might have something, I'd like to explore it…no…Gar, we've been through a lot, and I think there might be a lot more to be…no…Gar, I'm tired of being lonely, would you like NO…Garfield…no forget that he doesn't like being called by his full name…Gar do you believe in love after love…no no NO, thanks a lot Cher…Gar…I just want to say…_

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!" Came a sudden yell from the room. Tara stopped dead, emitting a tiny squeak of surprise at the sudden angry yell.

"I say everything I want to, and you just won't respond! Who do you think I am, some kind of Don Juan in green fur? I only have this to offer, WHY WON'T YOU DO IT RIGHT!"

Tara blinked, and then her heart sank. She was too late. She had joked and teased when she should have spoken the truth, and now Gar was angry at her, and what they had would be poisoned, and…wait, Gar didn't have X-Ray eyes, and she had been walking very softly…he could be in a rabbit form or something but why would be yelling at the door…maybe he found it easier then yelling at her…then again…

"GOD DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL!"

Tara crept up to the edge of the door and peeked in, figuring that yes, she looked foolish, but if Gar was so angry what did that matter…

"I HATE YOU!"

Tara's eyes went wide. Gar wasn't even looking at the door. He had his back turned to it, and seemed utterly oblivious to her presence. Instead, he was yelling at…a full-length mirror.

"Why can't you just say the right words? It's not that hard!" Gar yelled at the mirror. He smacked his hands into his forehead. "Damn it…I'm beginning to get an idea on why Noel was so frustrated. Lucky Tim, he gets the girl of the alien species who are highly emotional and fall hard easily…then again I must admit I did get the first kiss…"

"WHAT?"

Gar nearly hit the ceiling at the sudden angry yell, and he whirled around to look at Tara, who looked a lot meaner then she had five seconds ago.

"Tara! What are you doing there? How long were…"

"Perhaps we can exchange information…" Tara said, marching forward. "Was what that about YOU AND KORY KISSING!?!"

"Oh, well…"

"YOU ARE NOT HAVING AN AFFAIR!" Tara yelled. The hotel began to shake.

"An affair? What on earth are you talking about?"

"WHY WOULD SHE KISS YOU!"

"She absorbs languages through touch…and she didn't know any better. She had just landed."

A brief pause, and then Tara's eyes stopped glowing.

"What?"

"It was how she learned English. Why do you think she speaks so many languages? She can learn them through a kiss, and it's instinctive of her species to do that if they don't detect an outright threat. Plus her species is much…like that. But that was back when the team was first being formed! Nothing like that happened again! Unless you count the time Blackfire impersonated…"

And then a sudden realization came to Gar.

"How much of what I said did you hear?"

"Um…er…" Tara said, blushing.

Gar once again turned red, and then he turned into a turtle, his limbs and head retracting into his body as the shell fell to the ground.

Tara didn't know what to say, as she clasped her hands behind her back and rubbed the toe of her boot against the ground. She was faintly aware of a strange slight squeaky noise, but she ignored it.

Then a memory came to her.

"Hey Gar…" she said softly, leaning down and picking up the shell. "Remember this? This is how we first met."

"Wha?" Gar said inside the shell.

"The scorpion, remember? You assumed this same form. The more things change…"

Beast Boy was suddenly human again, but since Tara had been holding the shell, he was now directly in front of her. He almost ran away again. Almost.

"What did you say anyway? I know you garbled your name, calling yourself Boy Beast….but what was the other one? Sounded like gibberish fighting to be sense."

"Huh?" Beast Boy said, and Tara could feel the chasm springing up again. Why had something like that ever come into being?

Maybe that was it. Maybe words could go across a chasm, but they were empty in the end. What you needed…was a connection.

"Tara…" Gar said, as he started to take a foot back.

"Gar." she stated, reaching down and seizing his wrist. Gar looked shocked at first at the sudden grip, and then he looked confused…and underneath that…

Maybe she was a blonde…

"Gar…I get the sense there's a lot of stuff unsaid between us…so I'm not going to use words." Tara said, and brought his hand to her chest. At first Gar thought it was something else, and he nearly pulled away in embarrassment…but not before she finished placing her hand on her chest, right over her heart.

She'd let that speak for her.

Gar stared at his hand, feeling the motion underneath it, and then he looked up to Tara, her eyes so large…so shining…so filled with…

"Gar…you ever wish you could turn back time?" Tara asked.

"You mean with a Chromonton Thingamajig?"

"Not technically. Just…in itself." Tara said.

Gar blinked…and then he finally understood.

"Yeah…" he said, and he wagered it all and started to lean forward and up, hoping, hoping…

She was leaning down…

And then the window exploded as a yelling form of orange and white flew through it, and the two were pulling away from each other as Beast Boy became a lion and Tara began hunting for rocks…

And then they realized it wasn't an attack, as the glass finished falling, revealing Nigel hanging in the broken window, with one ankle tangled in a length of rope that he was swinging from.

"…………..Hello." he said.

Silence.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING/TRYING?!?" Tara and Gar yelled almost in twain.

"Uh…well…hmmmm, thereby hangs a tale…literally…" Nigel began.

"Just tell us how you came to be OUTSIDE THIS WINDOW." Tara growled.

"Uh well…it started when I got here and found I had left my key in the room. And I didn't want to break any doors and windows. So I found one of those window washing belt thingies and used it to climb up so I wouldn't damage stuff with my claws. I wanted to find an open window, but I couldn't. So I figured I'd have to try and cut one small hole in a window to get in, but I couldn't find the right leverage, so I started swinging, and I got disoriented, and I forgot that the materials on this planet aren't usually made for Blacktrinian claws, and then, this is the funny part…hey! Where are you going?" Nigel asked as the two started to leave. "Hey, don't mind me! You can just…eh, I mean, could you cut me down? I…" Nigel said, and then his foot twisted at the wrong angle and his own clawed appendage cut the rope, leaving him in freefall.

"OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!" Nigel wailed in his best Mr. Bill as he fell into the bushes below. "God I hate humans!"

* * *

"Did I miss something here? Again?" Noel asked his teammates. Nigel was sitting on the bed, an ice pack on his head and ankle while looking at a bunch of files, and at the other end of the room Gar and Tara were sitting together, looking at their own files and occasionally giving Nigel looks so frosty it had lowered the room temperature ten degrees.

"Only if we missed something with you and Raven." Gar said tersely.

"Um…no…we got a few things out of Roman's office and then she had to go…" Noel said, catching on that something may have finally happened and that Nigel may have wound up wrecking it, so he figured he'd spare the group the details of Raven's goodbye, which had left Noel's head spinning for the better part of twenty seconds. "So she's gone. She'll tell the others we're doing ok and basically let them know that if we need help, they'll help. Anyway guys, let's do one last review and then we can go to bed."

"Don't mention beds." Tara muttered to herself. Gar didn't hear it, but Nigel did with his huge ears, and he winced inwardly at what he had derailed, after all he had done to cause it, sort of.

"Ok, you probably all know about what the police found at Roman's house. Another thing to note is that Roman had apparently been visiting Light City High once a month for the past eight months."

"Toby." Tara said.

"Quite possibly. If Roman is not Cauterize, he might be working with Cauterize. We're going to see if we can get a search warrant for Toby's house. Then again, it might not mean anything, and we might be barking up the wrong tree altogether. Nigel?"

"Chesbro refused to let me examine his injury. That might just mean something." Nigel said. Tara groaned.

"Something wrong Tara?"

"Every time I have a set theory someone messes it up."

"That's life Tara."

"Actually life is usually some moron committing a crime in the heat of the moment and being sloppy and stupid which leads to his or her quick arrest and imprisonment. These are rare and exclusively OUR problem, it seems."

"True. We might need more information. Considering the holes in City Hall and the LCPD, due to you know who, our greatest source might be a lesser one…but we may have a problem with that too. Gar, what exactly happened with Elijah? He didn't want to speak with you?"

"Yeah, and I thought that was weird, so I turned into a fly and took a look…I shouldn't have done that, I intruded on a very private moment…"

"You mean…"

"No. Nothing like that. Elijah was sitting at the table in his kitchen, and he was with some woman, I was pretty sure it was his mother. And she…I think she lost her job, and she was…" Beast Boy sighed, not wanting to recount what he had seen. He really had had no right, looking in at Elijah's mother, a small frail women with thin graying hair and a slightly long face, sobbing softly into Elijah's shoulder and begging his forgiveness, and Elijah, trying so hard to be an adult when his oversized clothes made him look more like a kid then ever, trying to assume his mom that it would be all right. Beast Boy had left then.

"Awww man…" Tara said. "This just blows."

"For Elijah or our source?" Nigel asked.

"Well both, but I liked Elijah…say…you don't think…" Tara said.

"Who did his mom work for?" Gar finished.

"You got me, but I see where you're going." Noel said. And where the two were going was basically this: considering Light City's bad way, Stephen Pierce probably had his hand in a lot of the businesses. And considering how it had been said that men like Stephen Pierce lash out when they are angry…Noel could easily see him sitting in his office, calling random businesses and ordering firings, ruining lives to try and appease his own.

Maybe.

Then again, maybe it was more like an almost certainly.

"Ok guys, this is crunch time. We HAVE to stop Cauterize. Simply because, and once we've done so, we can turn our attention to Stephen Pierce. And yes, we could say we could just let our problems eliminate each other, but as much as it pains me, we can't let him kill him. Hell, Cauterize might have other plans. He might want us to think Pierce is the definite target when it's really someone or something else."

"Unless Cauterize is indeed working for Pierce." Gar said. Noel sighed.

"Yes, I suppose that's possible. And on that annoying possibility, I see an excuse to vent, so please don't be offended!" Noel yelled to the ceiling as he grabbed up some pictures. "You're right, we do have several strong points on our three, but hey, life is weird, so maybe Cauterize is someone else. Maybe he is working for Pierce. Hell, maybe he is Pierce! That would be a kick in the pants! Hell, maybe it's Turnquist! Maybe along with Speed Force powers he has a magic wand that makes him 35 years younger and a Caucasian!" Noel shouted, though as mentioned, he wasn't yelling at his team, just venting in general. The others went along.

"Maybe it was the medical examiner we worked with!" Nigel yelled.

"Maybe it's Principal Tugwell! Or Elijah! Or Elijah's mom! That would really be a shocker, wouldn't it?" Tara added.

"No! I have it! It is Mayor Tercero's radioactive clone's father's brother's cousin's nephew's former roommate!" Gar finished.

"No Gar you're overcomplicating it! IT IS MAYOR TERCERO!" Nigel yelled.

"I thought he was dead."

"THAT HASN'T STOPPED VILLIANS BEFORE!"

"MY GOD! THIS ISN'T A TOWN AT ALL! IT'S A MOVIE SET! IT'S THE REMAKE OF _SCREAM!_ EVERYONE'S A SUSPECT!" Tara concluded.

"Ok ok…" Noel said. "All things, yes, there is no guarantee it is any of our suspects…but Occam's Razor had got to come into play somewhere…but still…whoever it may be…we have to stop him. This town needs a hero, and despite what Cauterize might think, he ain't it." Noel said.

"What about Elijah?" Tara asked.

"What? Oh yeah. I suppose I should give him his interview. Hell, maybe I can arrange it with all the Titans. That would help if he wanted to go for a career in journalism: superheroes ARE hard to speak with. Heck, look what that interview with Superman did for Lois Lane's career…"

The hotel phone rang, and the Shimmer shot out to answer it.

"Hello?" he asked.

For two minutes he listened to the other person on the end talk, and then with a "We'll be right there.", he hung up.

"Guys, I'm afraid we'll have to forgo sleep for a little longer. Something has happened."

* * *

Stephen Pierce lived on the outskirts of town in a grand huge Victorian style mansion, a shining symbol of ill-gotten excess. It had a seperate garage that was bigger then most houses, a driveway nearly a quarter of a mile long, a private beach, and all the other trappings, including a huge fountain in front of the house.

Savior wished he was there to see Pierce's body. But no, Pierce was very much alive and currently screaming his head off at Garry Turnquist and several other officers inside the house, which Pierce had refused to let the teenagers into. It was a self-righteous and indulgent rant, and he should not have been making it…but that was not the thinking process of Stephen Pierce.

So the Titans were on the roof, looking down on the front yard.

"So…still think Cauterize is working for Pierce BB?" Savior asked.

"If he is, I think he may want to switch employers." Beast Boy replied.

On the lawn nearby was burnt patches of grass, where until recently, flame had been burning, letters written in gasoline that spelled out a message. The moon was, as usual, covered behind heavy cloud, but the police had a spotlight on it for some reason.

**_YOU'RE NEXT._**

"Guess he's made up his mind." Terra said.

"I hope he has, in a way. At least this time we know which way he'll be running." Savior replied.

"Yeah, but will we see him coming?" Scalpel asked.

No one answered that. No one wanted to.

* * *

And some distance away, eyes looking through black glass, seeing the house and the message, remembering the craze that had broken out when it had suddenly appeared, and thinking of the future, Cauterize crossed his arms and smirked.

"Bill Goldberg, eat your heart out."

To Be Continued


	6. Running Scared

Part 6: Running Scared

"Savior, you have got to be kidding."

"I wish I was Beast Boy, but unfortunately the situation has simply come to this. Overall…"

"No. I REFUSE!" Scalpel yelled, slamming his hand down on the table, nearly breaking the heavy wood furniture in half. "You can't actually have us guard that _gervad asdftyu's_ life! Especially after what he's done!"

"And what would you suggest Scalpel?"

"Have him placed in police custody. They can take him to a safe house…"

"Scalpel, the police can't guard Pierce against this. They'll be offering him a glass of water and suddenly his head will fall off."

"And what makes you think we can prevent that any more then they could?" Terra asked, crossing her arms.

Savior sighed.

"I can't. I can't guarantee anything. All we have to go on is guesses, and this one is mine. If Cauterize really, truly wanted Stephen Pierce dead, he'd already be dead. No warnings, no dramatics, nothing. But there is more to this then his death. Cauterize wants to send a MESSAGE. And who knows what that is? In any case, it's all we have. The police haven't found Roman and we don't have enough evidence to get a search warrant for Toby's house."

"And don't forget Chesbro is back on the job." Beast Boy said.

"That too. And that's considering if any of them are Cauterize, which, despite the stuff they found at Roman's house, is not conclusive. He could still be a snake in the grass that we won't know until it bites us. We're in a bad way here guys. We have a foe who can move so fast he could be here and gone before we even know it, and we still have no idea who he is, where he is getting his information, or even what side he's really on. As some of you have suggested, this could all be a brilliant feint."

"I don't think Pierce is that good of an actor." Scalpel said. Indeed, all the so-called "businessman" had done since the message had been written on his lawn was scream at everyone, alternately threatening to sue them and calling them incompetents. That was bad enough, but when Pierce had yelled at them when they had come into the house with the police, his eyes had showed something more then just reactive rage. There was viciousness in there, the animal cruelty that lurked in the souls of men like that, charged on fuel and needing an outlet.

It was just perfect really. Not only did they have to deal with Cauterize, but with whatever revenge plans that were probably simmering behind Pierce's gaze. His businesses had been crippled (in theory anyway, as there was NOTHING WHATSOEVER linking the great philanthropist Stephen Pierce to any criminal activity, nope, no sir, what cruel lies!), and his connections that had allowed such smooth sailing were growing more frayed and tenuous each hour. Indeed, such evidence of that was that by now Pierce would have surely had Turnquist removed from his position. He didn't even NEED to use dirty tricks there: Turnquist was not the officially elected chief. But things like that required local government, and City Hall was still in a giant mess due to Tercero's death and Roman's disappearance (and the possibility he was Cauterize). Savior wondered if the hapless Sergeant Robinson was still running things, or if control had shifted back to the dark side. He'd have to ask Turnquist for an update…

But back to the problem, Cauterize was not the only dangerous man they had to deal with. In a way, he was less dangerous, because at least they knew his intentions (maybe). Pierce could be a lot more unpredictable.

"Maybe, maybe not. But the fact remains. We will probably have a SLIGHT, very SLIGHT advantage if we stay here and act as his bodyguards. It will be a better position then back at the hotel. Yes, maybe it is pointless, maybe it will all be for naught…but guys, hate to say it, but when you signed up for this job…"

"We didn't sign up, you PICKED us." Terra grumped/snarled.

"I meant as a superhero. Believe me, I'm just as aggravated and angered as you that we have to actually protect this piece of shit. I could offer that we could use this to make sure he gets what he deserves, but with men like Stephen Pierce, that is a very empty promise." Savior said. While people proclaimed different, men like Pierce _were_ above the law. If they couldn't buy their way out of trouble, they'd buy people who would get rid of the people CAUSING trouble. Even if they did get convicted, many of them could still run their businesses from prison, and their money usually ensured that many of the horrors of prison never touched them. True, there were exceptions…but that was like gambling. The odds were that you would probably lose.

It was enough to make Savior consider just standing back and letting Cauterize through…but that, in the end, would be worse. Pierce probably knew nothing in the end about what his deeds did, that infuriating ignorance that men like him had. But Savior knew what evil was. And one of its greatest victories was when men caved in to its ways, whether it was for easing a problem or solving one that seemed to have no solution. Savior was no saint: he'd flirted with the dark side several times, and he couldn't always chalk it up to being in an intense state of emotion at the time. But a few failings did not mean he couldn't dispense the advice: there was a different between acting wrongly in a terrible situation when you really had no idea what you were doing and acting like it when everything was calm, at least on the surface. If Savior stepped aside, in the long run he would be worse then Pierce. Pierce didn't know better. Savior did.

As utterly maddening as they were, morals had to be adhered to. Or the battle was already lost.

And the fact that people struggled on despite them showed that it had not been lost yet.

Maybe it was destined to be lost, but Savior would rather die being crushed under its momentum while trying to stop it then going along with it.

And that meant that despite what Pierce had did, wanted to do, and all that, he could not be killed. Yes, perhaps it was what he deserved, but…

Argh. Savior hated these trains of thought. It just seemed to go from one aggravation to another until it drove a man mad. Perhaps its lack of a true final answer was what made people who they were…

"Earth to Savior!" Scalpel was yelling, and Savior drifted back to reality. He sighed again.

"Ok guys, in simplest terms, we have to protect him. Who he is and why he needs protection and all that is ultimately irrelevant. This is what we do, for EVERYONE in THIS situation. Once it is done, well, that's a whole new ball game."

"That is very little compensation." Scalpel said.

"Well, keep this in mind. We might fail." Savior said. "But that doesn't earn you slack. You act like Pierce is a teammate…"

Groans.

"And give him the protection as such, EVEN THOUGH YOU DON'T WANT TO."

"Why do we have to do this?" Beast Boy groaned.

"BB, I wish I could say there was some grand reward for having to do things like protecting crime lords from vigilantes who just want their cities to be nicer places and for that to happen there can't be a crime lord…but I don't know if that is true. If it makes you feel any better, I'll take the first watch. We can decide who goes next later. For now, hit the books again, look over the new info, and since we're staying in such a nice place, see if we can't make Pierce regret the fact that he now needs protection from us 'freaks.' Now let's go fill in our new baby that we'll be sitting for him, and if necessary, right ON him." Savior said, as the Titans got up and left the room.

In the other room were Pierce, sitting at his desk and glowering at the company he was keeping: nearly a dozen police officers, including Chesbro and Turnquist. Savior was sure there were a few men on Pierce's payroll lurking out of sight. Pierce's lawyer had been in the room when Savior and co had last been in it: he was gone now. Off to see what he could do to help his endangered client? Dismissed as useless? Getting out while the getting was good? Who knew, or cared. At least the view of the lovely fountain was still there, shown through the gigantic windows that backed Pierce's desk (his main office was located right above the front door. Normally Savior would have suggested he move, but in this case, he doubted the killer was going to bust out a sniper rifle).

"We've come to a decision. We'll stay here and protect Mr. Pierce…" Savior began.

"UNACCEPTABLE!" Pierce yelled, slamming a hand down. "These teenagers have been fed endless slander by my enemies! They will not make a concentrated effort, and besides, they have no official nature in the investigation…"

"Shut up you idiot." Turnquist said. "These teenagers are the only hope you have of staying alive."

"DON'T speak to me like that." Pierce retorted.

"SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Savior bellowed. "Pierce, you don't seem to get it. THINGS HAVE CHANGED. Now, you have two choices. Go along with them and maintain some dignity, or get dragged along kicking and screaming. Either way, we're staying here and watching your ass."

"I refuse."

"Ok, we offered. Come on guys, let's go back to the station, Pierce has refused our help. Say, shall we start a pool on how much longer he has to live? Put me in for four hours…" Beast Boy said turning around.

"Beast Boy." Savior said quietly. Beast Boy didn't reply, he just stopped, sighed, and turned back around.

"This is, as your spiritual ancestor might have said, an offer you cannot refuse." Savior said to Pierce.

"I refuse. Leave my place before I have you arrested for trespassing." Pierce replied. He was trying to keep his image of the untouchable lord and master of his domain up, but the cracks were starting to show, and not just because his life was in danger. After so many years of people rolling over for him, one way or another, Pierce was now faced with several thorns that he just could not remove from his side.

Savior looked around wryly at the police officers around him.

"Ok. I refuse. Anyone want to arrest me? Any takers? Going once? Twice?" Savior said. The cops looked a bit uncomfortable, and one actually started to reach for his handcuffs, but one look and shake of his head from Turnquist stopped him. Scalpel glanced at Chesbro, but he had his game face on, as if the accusations and suspicion that some people had about him had never been made.

"Hmmm, guess you're out of luck Pierce." Savior finished.

"Why are you here? You obviously don't like me. Why act like you care?" Pierce said, abruptly switching tactics. Savior had been thrown better curveballs then that before, and while he was no Babe Ruth, he'd at least bat in a run, if he could.

"Caring has nothing to do with it. You're in danger, we protect you. That's it, that's all. Protest all you want. You know damn well that all the guards and thugs in the world can't protect you. How can they guard against a foe like that?"

"How can YOU? The last time you tried, your protectee ended up dead and all of you ended up in the dirt. A familiar place to be sure." Pierce said, managing to regain a bit of his poise.

"True. We have our backs to the wall. Cauterize could be anywhere. He could even be in this room right now moving so fast we can't catch him in our peripheral vision…"

The sound of guns being drawn was very loud as several of the officers considered what Savior had just said and panicked.

"…THAT DOES NOT MEAN HE IS PUT THOSE GUNS AWAY BEFORE YOU KILL SOMEONE!" Savior yelled over his shoulder. He turned back to Pierce.

"And I make no guarantees. But what was it you said to me Pierce? I wouldn't be willing to make the sacrifice that would be needed to bring my friends to avenge me? Well, it's time for the opposite. You don't want us here, but you know that without us, you're dead meat. You don't want to make that sacrifice, but you have to. So pull up a pitcher of water and wash down the crow. Believe me, there's a lot more coming." Savior said. He turned back to Turnquist. "Would you like to leave some of your men here as well?"

"No…but I think we'll give the place a once over before we go, just to make sure he isn't here or that he hid any surprises." Turnquist said.

"No! You can't do that! You don't have a warrant!" Pierce yelled.

"A warrant? Mr. Pierce, we're not looking for evidence of a crime. We're trying to make sure you're safe. Don't worry, we'll be careful, and after all, it's not like we'll find anything, right? After all, you're just a businessman who people are always telling lies about." Turnquist said. "Move men. Let's try not to take too long."

"Go with them guys. When they're done, go to our new meeting room. If you need me, you know where I am." Savior said, as the Shimmer grabbed a chair that Savior placed in front of Pierce's desk. The energy spun it around and Savior sat down, leaning on the back, keeping his eyes on Pierce.

"Oh come now, this is just too much." Pierce said.

"The closer I am, the better my chances. Small as they are." Savior said.

The door closed, leaving the two alone.

For a few seconds, the two stared at each other, and then Pierce got up, walked around Savior (who spun the chair in place), and headed for a cabinet near the door that the police officers had just left through. He opened it up to reveal a multitude of expensive wines, liquors, and alcoholic drinks. He selected one, poured a shot, downed it, put the glass back, and closed the cabinet. He went back to his desk (Savior spinning around again) and sat down.

"I need to conduct business." He said.

"Conduct away."

"I don't do that in front of people."

"Well, either adapt or put the wand down Maestro. I won't be selling any of your secrets to the competition. Which makes me wonder, what do you do anyway?"

"Real estate and insurance."

Savior snorted.

"What? Oh, you're serious? Sorry."

Pierce glared at Savior with baleful eyes.

"If you're going to watch me, do it from across the room."

"No, I think I'll stay right here for now." Savior said. The Shimmer flowed from his hand, went across the room, opened the door, and zipped out. It returned several seconds later carrying a flat and ornately carved box, which Savior placed between the two and opened up to reveal a game board.

"Play chess?"

* * *

"Leave me alone. I have a job to do." Chesbro said as he opened a closet and began looking through it.

"Why don't you just let Nigel examine you? It will be a lot easier if we can eliminate you as a suspect." Terra said.

"My mind has not changed." Chesbro said, and left it at that.

"No. It wouldn't. I suppose that's just the way it is. You probably had to learn to rely on yourself at a young age. And when you have to do it young, it isn't very long before you think that the only one you can rely on is yourself. Believe me, I know all too well." Terra said.

Chesbro didn't even blink at the fact that Scalpel had revealed what they had discussed. He finished looking through the closet, closed it, and went over to the bed in the guest room he was examining, kneeling down and turning on his flashlight, shining the beam under it. True, the odds of Cauterize hiding under the bed were probably as likely as Hitler's ghost appearing before them and breaking into a rousing solo of "Charleston", but Chesbro had always been thorough.

"All right. Fine. Don't talk to me. You seem to leave that when you have your mask on. Am I talking to you, Cauterize? Am I?"

"Young lady, don't be foolish."

"Oh, of course not. How could you be Cauterize? Cauterize is special. You can't stand us special folk, with our fancy costumes and our extraordinary powers. We mock your laws while living the high life. Man oh man, aren't we a bunch of loathsome fancy lads!"

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"I'd rather think that I'm just pulling out the ones you're too polite to say. Maybe I should be thankful for that, but know this Chesbro. Being special is as much as a burden as anything you bear. You, at least, can take refuge in the fact you're human and hence can only do so much. We're expected to work miracles and we're reviled when we can't because despite our abilities, most of us are far too human. You know, I don't think you should resent the special. I think you should resent the fact that you don't have the moral high ground that you need to make the kind of judgments you're making, both now and behind the mask you may be wearing!"

Chesbro didn't give any indication that he had been affected by Terra's words as he was standing up, but when he turned around his eyes had become lit with a slight smoldering intensity.

"Miss Terra, have you ever taken a human life?"

"I…um…"

"Oh, perhaps I should rephrase. Have you ever taken a human life with that as your clear intention, rather then a side effect of something else?"

"What do you…" Terra said, and then ice filled her gut as she suddenly realized what Chesbro was talking about.

"You shouldn't look so surprised. You have my notes. You know I do research. It's not hard to make a connection between a string of earth related disasters and a female metahuman who was observed to have such geomorphic abilities who joined a known superhero team, especially considering that the disasters basically pointed to your city in a straight line."

Terra was speechless. She had almost forgotten those dark and terrible days, hiding her pains and fears behind a wall of cheer and sillyness, before the Titans, before her redemption…before she had escaped her own personal pit of hell.

Except part of her never had.

"In the course of my duty, I have been forced to shoot to kill three times. My psychiatric records in the department will clearly show I was deeply affected by those incidents. There is no way I could kill with such flippant abandon. The men I shot were as bad as Cauterize's victims. That did not stop me from feeling it."

"……………..But…" Was all Terra could get out.

"I'm not cruel child. I understand you have good intentions at heart. But quite frankly, I suggest you go back to your drawing board, because you should not be accusing me of sins with one hand while trying to tell me to atone mine with the other when you have clearly not finished atoning for your own."

Terra sat on the bed.

"That is all. I will not discuss this again with any member of your team. I'll be heading back to the station soon: I'll call you if we discover anything important." Chesbro said, walking out the door.

Terra sat there for a bit, working on what had just happened. Then she realized that she didn't have to do it alone, and went to find Beast Boy, or Scalpel. She could use some company, even if she had to go sit with Savior and glare at the scum they had to protect…

* * *

"Checkmate." Pierce said, moving his rook into position.

Svaior's eyes flickered with annoyance.

"Four in a row. Not bad at all." Savior said. He was in the midst of resetting the pieces when his communicator buzzed.

"Oh lord, you have one of those insipid custom ringtones…" Pierce said.

"Don't look at me, I didn't pick it." Savior said, flipping open his device. He was mildly surprised to see Robin's face on the view screen.

"Savior." Robin said. There was no tension in his voice: The incident that had led to Savior getting picked for this mission had long since faded from Robin's memory.

"M'Leader. Can I help you?"

"Raven gave me a report. What's new?"

"The vigilante known as Cauterize has selected a new target. We have decided to give him 24-hour guard in the vague hope that we might be able to intercept this assassination attempt. His target is a Mr. Stephen Pierce. You might know him. Hey, I have Robin on the line! You know, the protégée of Batman? Want to say hello?" Savior said, directing the last three lines at Pierce as he turned the communicator around and used the Shimmer to shove it in Pierce's face. Pierce recoiled. Robin just looked at the man through the viewscreen, his mask allowing him to emit a glare that would have done his mentor proud.

"Don't recognize him. Must be small time." Robin said.

"Maybe, but no less troublesome."

"And he is this Cauterize's target?"

"That appears to be the case." Savior said, as Pierce sidled back up to his desk.

"Savior…I trust your abilities, but the report Raven gave me was very troublesome."

"Meaning?"

"We can all be there in half an hour…"

"No Robin. And that's not foolish pride. Hear me out."

"I'm listening."

"Raven told you my worry?"

"That someone might try and attack Jump City while we're gone. That Cauterize may even be part of a larger plan to ensure this."

"Yes…I'm not so sure about that any more, but there's something else…basically Robin, I don't think you can help."

Robin arched an eyebrow.

"Considering the injuries Raven claims you suffered, I would think you need all the help you could get."

"On one level yes, but on another…Robin, a foe like this is a very tricky prospect. What we have at the moment is a puzzle that's still difficult, but solvable. If all you guys come down here…I think you'll just complicate things. I think this situation calls for a commando unit, not an army."

"Savior, you could die."

"I could die whether or not you come and help. I could die on my mission after this or ten years from now. I know that Robin. I know the consequences. And the fact that none of the others have called you independently indicates that they understand too. Robin…I think that not only can we handle this on our own, we have to."

"……….Ok then. I'll take that under consideration. For now."

"I'm sure you'll make the right decision."

"Speaking of right decisions, Gauntlet is very unhappy you took the PDEM with you."

"I did?"

"Apparently."

"Gauntlet can be unhappy? I thought that was physically impossible."

"That was the assumption I was operating under as well." Robin said. "In any case, Jump City is quiet at the moment. If you send me some information I'll see if Oracle and I can take a look."

"Thanks, I'll do that."

"Ok then. Robin…"

"Er, Robin?"

"Yes?"

"You did make up for the thing that resulted in this, right?"

Silence for a moment, and then Robin gave Savior a slight, wry grin with the corner of his mouth.

"It's true what they say. Anticipation does make the heart grow fonder." Robin said.

"I thought that was absence."

"No, absence just makes it madder." Robin said, and cut the connection.

"Yeah, I'll bet." Savior said, flipping the screen down and looking at Pierce. "Still in one piece? Ok then, hang on a moment…" Savior said as he leaned down, pulling his boot up. He carefully pressed on a section on the heel and slid it aside to reveal the small black form of the PDEM. _Hmmm. Did take it. Must have instinctively slipped it in when Raven wanted me to help with the gardening…_

Then an idea occurred to Savior.

And was almost immediately rejected.

_No. I can't use this on Cauterize. Even if I fail, even if I die…there are others who can stop him. This needs to be used when the Omega Obliterator needs the defense over his weak spot to fail just before a combined attack hits it. Or if Amazo decides to throw a hissy fit again._ Savior thought, and slipped the device back in and resealed his boot.

A pity he had to take his eyes off Stephen Pierce for the several seconds that required.

That was all the time he needed to reach over and punch a short code into his phone, his body language graceful enough that he did it without catching Savior's eye.

"Ok Pierce, back to the grind." Savior said, finishing resetting the pieces.

"The grind?"

"The way things were going before this." Savior said, indicating the communicator as he slipped it into his belt.

_More then you could ever realize, you stupid fool._ Pierce thought with satisfaction. _You may think you've won, but this is just one battle. I will win the war. I always have. _

* * *

Turnquist walked into the kitchen and found the green teenage metahuman with the blonde girl sitting at a table and eating from several plates of foot that were placed on it. Beast Boy was eating from a large vegetable and dip platter, while Terra was chowing down on a very large piece of Black Forest cake.

"Really putting your noses to the grindstone, eh?" Turnquist said, though the nastiness he would have normally used was kept to a bare minimum. These teenagers might have failed to save Tercero's life, and what they were doing might ensure his city's descent, but he knew effort when he saw it. They had been putting out a great deal of effort: it was only fair they took a break. Pushing people was fine, but you had to know when to stop pushing or you'd shove them right off a cliff.

"Hey, if we have to guard that scumbag, and possibly even save his worthless life, then we're going to make him work for it, even if all we can do is make his cook earn his paycheck." Terra said, and paused to drink a big glass of milk.

"Careful young lady, you're going to get fat."

"Not in this life. My metabolism would put the core of a star to shame." Terra said.

"I gathered." Turnquist said. Beast Boy finished the carrot he was eating and was about to say something when his communicator buzzed.

"You have one of those custom random noises that people use instead of ringing? Maybe it's a generation gap, but I don't see what was wrong with ringing."

"Don't look at me, I didn't pick it." Beast Boy inadvertently echoed as he answered it. It was Savior.

"What's your position Beast Boy?"

"Terra and I are grabbing a quick bite before we get back to research."

"Right. Pierce has his own cook, right?"

"Dude, Pierce bought the nearby section of town's land and kicked everyone out so he would have privacy. With money like that, you should assume he has his own chef." Beast Boy replied. It was true: while Light City was once famed for its beach, the beach didn't cover the entire length of the coastline the city was built on. The beach was sandwiched between two sets of rolling hills. One set had a lot of woodland and was mostly used by campers and hikers, and the other set on the opposite side of Light City had consisted of mansions for the rich and a small, self-contained offshoot of the main municipality where the people who worked for the rich lived, a section of houses that surrounded a few blocks of necessities like banks, a supermarket, a mini-mall, and even a small movie theater. When the chemical factories had been built down the coast and the decline had begun, the rich had moved on and people trying to make a living at the factories had replaced the servants. At least until Stephen Pierce had arrived and rebuilt one of the mansions to the point that the previous ones seemed small. Apparently he had decided he didn't want such skuzzy people hanging around and pulled some strings to buy the land the small section of town was under. He promptly kicked everyone out, and now the section stood abandoned, not even inhabited by squatters because of the trek necessary to get up there. Instead it stood, a monument to corrupt excess.

"True. Ok Beast Boy, tell him to make several meals that can be frozen and reheated…oh god, he's not one of those nutso artists of think they have to educate people's palates and go insane if you suggest…"

"I get it. Don't think so."

"Ok. Tell him once he's done to clear out of the place. I think things will be getting bad soon. Once you're done eating, go around and tell the same to any of the "normal" servants. The rest probably won't leave even if you tell them to."

"Gotcha. Turnquist is here, you want to speak to him?"

"Actually, yes." Savior said, and Beast Boy handed the T-Communicator to the still unofficial chief, who looked at the device and the small screen on which Savior's face appeared with interest.

"Intriguing gear you have here." He said.

"If we survive this case maybe I'll give you one as a souvenir." Savior said. "Find anything?"

"Nothing but some pornography and a few bottles of steroids. No drug caches or hidden armories, or secret passages, or pirate treasure, or anything in that vein."

"All right. You have the number to my cell: ring if you need anything. We'll be down there as quickly as we can."

"If this is a diversion, it won't be quickly enough." Turnquist said cynically.

"I know Chief, I know. But you and I both know that in the end, this is probably the best choice. Hindsight is always 20/20, but it's almost always pointless."

Turnquist chuckled darkly.

"How true." He said, and handed the communicator back to Beast Boy.

"Ok Savior, what do we do after we tell the servants to clear out? And where's Scalpel?"

"Scalpel said he was going to try and get a fresh perspective on things. Heaven knows what that exactly might be. You should run into him soon. When you do, Beast Boy, I want you to go back to our new brainstorming room and get back to work with Scalpel. Terra, when you're done I'd appreciate it if you go outside and do aerial recon around the place. Who knows, you might see a cloud of dust like the Roadrunner. God knows we're due for a break."

"Aye-firmative." Terra said, sound like Newt from _Aliens._

"I'll call you back later: we can decide then on who's going to watch Mr. Pierce next." Savior said, and ended the conversation.

"Well Chief, see you around. Hopefully." Beast Boy said, standing up and picking up his plate to put in the dishwasher. Turnquist nodded and turned around, and then his own cell phone rang. The two teenagers looked at him as he held up a finger and answered the phone with the other.

"Turnquist."

"Chief! We have a small albeit non-Cauterize problem." Said a voice on the line.

"Oh. Ok, what is it?" Turnquist asked, waving away the two, who went back to putting away their dishes. He could hear one of them opening a door and talking to who he assumed was the cook in the background.

"There's some oil tanker that had its navigation system messed up or something and now they don't have enough fuel to get to their destination. They want to know if they can borrow most of the docks for a few days while they refuel."

"Well, no one's using them now, are they?" Turnquist said. The docks had been designed far more then for pleasure then business, and like many already mentioned things, pleasure had left this city a while ago.

"Is that an affirmative?"

"YES." Turnquist said.

"Oh, ok."

"Right. When are they going to get here?"

"Sometime tomorrow evening. Maybe night."

"All right, if things have changed maybe we can spare a few men so they don't wind up crashing into the harbor. The ways things are going, it wouldn't surprise me…" Turnquist said as he hung up.

A quick cough grabbed his attention. At first he thought it was one of the teenagers, but they had left during his conversation. Then he thought it might be the cook…until his eyes found the source.

If the sunglasses-wearing leather coated man with the razor-like hair cut leaning casually against the wall was the chef, they certainly had changed their fashion. Turnquist doubted it was that, and that didn't leave good things as the alternatives.

"Can I help you?" he asked, ready to go for his gun. He wouldn't be surprised if some idiot under Pierce's employ knew what a hassle he was making for his boss and had decided he could score brownie points if he helped remove it. Criminals were usually stupid…the smart ones ended up like Pierce, albeit without the being stalked by a superspeedy vigilante part.

Shades didn't reply. Instead he reached into his pocket, slowly, as if trying to indicate he wasn't going for a weapon.

Instead, he withdrew an envelope. Turnquist stared at it. Shades just put the envelope on the counter that was between the two. He again slowly reached into his jacket and withdrew a cell phone, laying it down next to the envelope.

"What's this?" Turnquist asked, still on the alert.

"I'm sure you can figure it out." Shades said in a low, raspy tone, and turned and left.

The envelope had "Chief" written on it. For a moment, Turnquist wondered if Pierce had actually decided that the new boss would be just like the old boss and delivered a bribe. Heck, maybe it was the one that the late Rudy Bialas had been scheduled to receive before his impromptu meeting with a stone wall.

Just to be on the safe side, he slipped on gloves he always carried on his person (even walking a beat, he still had to investigate crime scenes) and opened up the envelope with a knife, holding his breath in case it had something nasty inside (could Pierce actually get ahold of anthrax? Turnquist wouldn't put it past him…)

It wasn't a bribe.

It wasn't white powder.

What it was was something that Turnquist had been suspecting all along, in a deep deep part of him. But that didn't help when he saw what was in there, as it tore through the defenses he had erected from decades of dealing with criminals and struck a cold knife of fear deep inside his being.

When the cell phone rang a minute later, he finally knew what it was for.

* * *

"Toby, this is ridiculous."

"Mom, I've explained this at least ten times." Toby Garigen said. He had gotten most of his looks from his father, who worked a lot. (Toby could live with that though. It was amazing what one could adapt to), but his eyes were from his mother, who admittingly had not aged too well from the beauty pageant contestant (albeit never a winner) she had been in her youth. Maybe it was because she was so damn overprotective, always thinking the world was going to destroy her son the second she turned her back. Toby had been able to tolerate it for a while, but even since the injury and the tripling of his training, it was becoming intolerable. He loved his mom deeply, but she was really beginning to tick him off. He wished she could see past her overprotectiveness and realize that he had to get better, regain his form, and then surpass it. This city may have abandoned him, but he was going to regain their attention, and rub it in the faces of all those who had doubted him.

And he was going to do it on his own merits. He would not take any shortcuts or cheat in any way, whether that option was there or not.

And he had options. They might not know it, but he did.

"Toby, you have to REST. I know you're trying to rebuild the muscles, but if you push yourself beyond your limits every day, the muscles aren't going to be restored, they're going to disintegrate."

"I know Mom. I've worked out how to pace myself…"

"You don't need to pace yourself! You need to REST!"

"Mom…please. Not today."

"What's so important about today?"

"It's personal."

"Toby, I am your mother! You should not keep secrets from your mother!"

"Mom…there are things I have to do on my own. That's just the way it is. I'll rest tomorrow. I promise. But I have to run today."

"Toby!"

"I'll be back by three. Love you Mom!" Toby said as he zipped out the door and closed it.

Part of him felt rotten, but that was irrelevant in the end. What he had to do, it wasn't just for him. It was for her, hell, if he could allow himself some arrogance, it was for the whole damn city.

So Toby jogged off down the road, thinking it all through.

It pleased him.

* * *

Turnquist was waiting for Chesbro when he came out of the small library (that had been covered with so much dust that Chesbro wondered why it was still around if no one used it), walking out into the very large room that served some function that wasn't clear. It had some staircases and a high ceiling, but the furniture didn't give an indication of what this room's purpose was. Not that it mattered.

"Chief." Chesbro said. "Do you…"

"John, we have to talk." Turnquist said.

Chesbro immediately knew something was wrong. While he and Turnquist had worked in the same department, their comings and goings (and the manipulations of others) had seen to it that they didn't see each other much. And when they did, Turnquist always addressed him as Chesbro, occasionally "Jonathon". The only time he called him John was back when…

"Don't dance around it. What is it?" Chesbro said quietly.

"John, I have to remove you from this case."

Silence.

"Reason." Chesbro replied.

"Paid leave. Your arm needs more time…"

"My arm is FINE. You know that." Chesbro said.

"John…"

"He got to you, didn't he?" Chesbro said, in the same quiet tone. To Garry Turnquist, that was worse then a screaming accusation.

"John, you can't understand…"

"Maybe not. But then again, there was a lot I never understood, didn't I? Like how you waited so long to do what you did, all things considered. Like how you looked at the mask that vigilante wore and wondered if I was behind it."

"He sounded nothing like you John, but he said…"

"I know what he said. Do the teenagers?"

"Not sure."

"But if they don't, soon, right? You need to cover the bases. I know you well Garry. And I know why you're doing this." Chesbro said. "I will still not accept it."

"John…"

"I'm not a child any more Garry. I know you looked at my father and saw his failures and that struck you to the core, as you compared him and I to how you and your boys were and wondered how he could act like that. I know you tried to help along with my uncle. And I'm grateful for it. But I don't need a father any more Garry. I need a fellow soldier. I need a leader to rise up and pull our brotherhood out of the morass it's sunk into, someone who can look at the consequences and not be cowed by them. I need you to do what is best for this city, rather then what's best for you. That is my decision and I will not change it. Far too many people have compromised these days. I will not join them."

Silence.

"Then you leave me no choice. Give me your badge John."

Chesbro briefly closed his eyes, and then opened them again, showing no emotion as he reached into his pocket and handed over his gold detective's shield. He also handed over his gun without being asked.

"I'm sorry John." Turnquist said.

"Yes Garry. In the end you are." Chesbro replied, and walked off without a second glance.

Turnquist sighed deeply, looking at the badge, thinking about what he had just done, how he had in the end done exactly what Bialas had, which was lean over and let Pierce have his way.

Maybe he should have been stronger or tougher. Maybe he should have stood by what he had tried to stand by earlier, when he had been staring down the emotionless pit that was Cauterize's black helmet.

But he couldn't.

Not after seeing the pictures of his sons, taken from a distance from the colleges they were at, and the several of Vanessa, just doing normal tasks around and outside the house, and the small typed note.

YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN PROTECT THEM?

Light City needed a leader…and he couldn't be it. He wasn't a leader at the core. He wasn't even a cop. He was a husband and a father.

The cell phone trilled. The one Shades had given him. Anger stirred in his gut. All he had vowed to do when he had taken this step, undone by a few pictures.

For a brief moment, Turnquist could understand by Cauterize had taken the path he had. The one Turnquist would now have to walk was enough to drive him mad.

But he would walk it, and hope for the best, in all regards.

So he answered it.

"It's done."

"Good. Now you know what else you have to do." Shades said on the other end.

"At least…"

"No. You will go back and resign right now. And if you know what's good for you, you'll get out of town. Trust me, you don't belong here."

The line went dead.

A crushing weight seemed to have settled on his back, as Turnquist took the cell phone away from his ear, stared at it, and then hurled it against the wall with a noise of intense frustration and rage.

He then left the room, trying to collect himself and figure out just what he was going to do.

One could suppose he never had a reason to, but had he peered up, his eyes finding a dark corner on the ceiling, he might have seen Nigel Hastings, aka Scalpel, hanging upside down like a bat. He had originally gone up there to attain the fresh perspective he had told Savior about, keeping in the corner as not to freak anyone out. Instead, it had allowed him to eavesdrop on the whole conversation…including the cell phone. His ears were huge for a reason.

Scalpel flexed his feet, letting go of the ceiling and flipping over as he landed. He rose slowly, thinking over what he had just seen and heard.

His life threatened, and Stephen Pierce was still trying to run this city.

Scalpel bared his teeth as a low growl thrummed in his throat, and then with a whirl of orange cloak he was off. He wasn't going to stand for this.

* * *

Savior had, despite his best intentions, found he could not stay in the chair and stare at Pierce all day (especially after his 11th straight chess victory. The bastard was GOOD…then again, after playing a whole city like a harp (from hell), maybe playing chess was easy), and now he found himself by the window, though he still kept both his eyes on Pierce, who was writing something at his desk.

Then the phone on the desk rang. Pierce looked up and then glanced at Savior.

"Can I answer my phone, or will you do that too?" he asked.

Savior thought it over.

"Make it quick." He said, and crossed his arms, keeping his ears opened. If he heard anything that sounded fishy…

"Pierce." Said Pierce as he answered it.

"It's done boss." Shades said on the other end of the line.

"Oh really? Good. I was worried that deal was going to fall through. Good job Alex." Pierce replied. Shades' real name was not Alex, but Pierce had to keep that damn kid from becoming suspicious. Fortunately, in his early days Stephen Pierce had gotten into the habit of talking in code to throw off anyone who was listening. He'd kept the habit just in case, and it was paying off: the freak didn't seem to have a clue.

"So what now boss? Shall we go through with a followup or is the business fine as it is?" Shades said.

"Well, I suppose we could consider that. Always good to keep people's nose to the grindstone." Pierce replied.

"All of the way? Maybe one?"

"Not, that's not right for this. Try the Austin account." Pierce said.

Shades chuckled.

"You really know how to hold a grudge boss. Too bad we can't see his face after the accident."

"No. I suppose…"

And then a giant noise exploded through the room as the door exploded off its hinges.

It was a good thing Savior was at the other end of the room, because it wasn't Cauterize: it was Scalpel, and if Savior hadn't had time to turn around and see that before he instinctively lashed out at the noise Scalpel could have been in some serious pain.

Normally Scalpel would have considered that, except he had stopped outside the door when he had heard a phone ring just before he was about to enter, albeit less violently then they way he just had, and something had made him stop and put his ear to the door. Where he had once again, despite the barrier and the distance, heard Pierce and his minion speaking, as Pierce actually managed to pull the wool over Savior's eyes as he…did what? Ordered the death of one of Turnquist's loved ones? Or maybe something worse? Maybe one would suffer a car accident. Maybe his wife would turn down the wrong alleyway and…and that was all Scalpel would stand for as he reared back and kicked the door as hard as he could, smashing it off its hinges in a spray of wood.

Pierce recoiled so hard he nearly fell backwards, and as mentioned, Savior was an eyelash away from giving Scalpel a man to Shimmer chat. But he managed to hold off as Scalpel stomped in.

"Scalpel, what the hell?" he said. By now Pierce had regained his poise as Scalpel stomped up to his desk.

"What is the meaning…!" was all Pierce got out as Scalpel grabbed one end of the desk and shoved it aside like it was made of cardboard, taking one last step before his hand shot out, his clawed fingers seizing Pierce by the neck.

"Scalpel! What are you doing!" Savior yelled, running over, as with one clean jerk Scalpel lifted Pierce out of his chair and above the alien with one arm. A normal Blacktrinian could probably have never done this, as the balance between their strength and the sharpness of their claws meant they would probably have tore their target's throat open in the process. But Scalpel, as per his codename suggested, was a surgeon. He had a lot of fine control.

Even though he wished he didn't have to exert it, as he fought to let his fury take command of him and rip Pierce's esophagus right out.

"CALL IT OFF." He hissed. Pierce couldn't reply per say, but he managed to gasp and choke out a general sound that indicated he supposedly didn't know what Scalpel was talking about.

"SCALPEL!" Savior was yelling.

"CALL IT OFF. OR I'LL PULL IT OFF." Scalpel snapped.

The Shimmer was suddenly there, though it didn't pull Scalpel's arm away. Instead it inserted itself between the claws, Savior wincing in the process as he took some of the weight away from Scalpel and made sure the alien, despite his intentions, didn't kill Pierce.

"Scalpel, what's going on?" Savior asked quietly. The alien looked at his current leader.

"This pierce of _cjuytr_ has been trying to keep business as usual behind our backs. I happened to be present when it was revealed that Pierce has apparently threatened Turnquist's family and blackmailed him into resigning. And even though Turnquist has apparently agreed, what you just overheard wasn't some business deal but his order to harm one of them anyway. As a warning to others." Scalpel said.

Savior thought it over.

"Put me down!" Pierce managed to gasp out.

"Is this true?" Savior asked.

"Put me down now! You crazy…!" Pierce said.

The Shimmer flowed out and jammed itself into Pierce's ear, carefully working its way through the eardrum and hooking up to the his brain, as Savior accessed the part that contained memory. Years of practice allowed him to filter out all the junk he didn't need as he access Pierce's memories of the last few days.

And when he was done searching, Savior had to admit that Pierce was nothing if not prepared.

That only made him angrier though.

"You fucking scum." Savior said, withdrawing the Shimmer, this time pulling Scalpel's hand away. Pierce collapsed in his chair, gasping for breath. He barely noticed the Shimmer pawing at his clothes until it located Pierce's cell phone.

"Do what he said. Now." Savior snarled.

"I don't know what…" Pierce said before twin Shimmer blades slammed into the seat on each side of his head.

"You just won't listen. Maybe I need to DRILL it into your head." Savior snapped, as a third Shimmer line flowed out and assumed a rough drill shape. "You may think you own this town Pierce. You may think you can do whatever you please. But that was then. This is now. It's OVER Pierce. Your empire is FINISHED. Because if we can catch Cauterize, my friends and I aren't leaving. We're staying, and we'll call in every favor and friend we can muster until you are in the jail cell where you belong. Now call off the attack."

"I don't…"

The drill jumped forward a few inches. Pierce tried to recoil again, except this time there was no room.

"Yes. You will. Because if you don't…well, I don't need to be messy to do damage, Pierce. I can easily just hook up to your brain and fake a heart attack or a stroke. The medical equipment needed to catch such a ruse exists in about two places on this planet. Heck, we even have a convenient alibi. Scalpel here overheard your plan, was consumed by rage, and marched in to stop you, but you, already jumpy due to the Cauterize thing, were pushed over the edge by the inappropriate actions of the alien and had whatever you had. He's a registered doctor you know. He can sign the death certificate. No one's going to suspect us after we clearly tried to protect you despite our strong feelings, and the claw marks on your neck are already explained away. Once again Pierce, you told me something would never happen because I didn't want to die. And it's the same to you. Now call it off."

Pierce didn't reply, but his eyes were wide and fearful…and under that were flashes of an intense hatred.

"What, you think we won't do it? You know Pierce, maybe you're right." Savior said, stroking his chin. "After all, crossing the line is what brought us here to deal with Cauterize. He chose to take lives and for that we have to stop him. But that kind of action is a noble deed, and as you probably know, humans are not prone by nature to nobility. And when one looks at this town, at all the fear and suffering, most of which was caused by YOU trying to carve out your own little slice of paradise…it makes us angry Pierce. Being the good guy all the time is a terrible burden. Having to always follow the upper path when it lets people like you do what you do is the weight of the world. And sometimes, just sometimes…when you just can't take it any more, even the best of us with the best of intentions…So do it Pierce. Or the last thing you see will be Atlas shrugging."

Savior withdrew the strands and backed up, tossing the cell phone into Pierce's lap.

For a few seconds, Pierce's expression went through several changes as he tried to decide what to do. What ultimately settled was an angry resigned look as he picked up the phone, dialing the numbers like they were red-hot.

"Silver, what was just suggested…call it off."

"What? Boss…"

"I said call it off! All of it!"

"Um…boss…you sure?"

"Yes." Pierce said, glaring at the two superheroes. They didn't flinch.

"…Ok then."

Pierce hung up, and then squawked as the Shimmer snatched the cell phone away and promptly crushed it into dust. Savior nodded to Scalpel, who walked over to Pierce's desk phone and yanked it right out of the wall.

"HEY! HEY!" Pierce yelled, starting to get up.

"Sit down." Savior said, shoving Pierce back down into the chair as Scalpel crushed the phone in his powerful talons.

"Scalpel, find Beast Boy. You and he find every single phone in this house and destroy it."

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" Pierce yelled.

"And you can't build an empire on people's backs. At least that's the way it should be, but hey, you certainly know about how things don't happen the way we want them to." Savior said, as he pulled out his communicator and dialed Terra.

"Nothing up here Savior." She answered.

"I figured. Is Turnquist still around Terra?"

"Um, I think I just saw him leave…"

"Argh. Ok, chase him down! When you find him have him dial me again on your device!"

"Savior, can't you just call him?"

"He might have his cell turned off! Look, just do it! Please."

"Ok." Terra said, and signed out.

Pierce had gotten up while Savior was talking, made his way over to his liquor cabinet, and was now pouring his third shot of whatever he was drinking (apparently stress made him turn to alcohol). To give Savior credit, he let Pierce finish drinking whatever he was drinking before he yanked him away from the cabinet, grabbing up the shot glass that Pierce had been drinking from and putting it back before he closed the cabinet, all while pulling Pierce backwards. He shoved him back in his chair and yanked his desk back in front of him.

"And as for you…change of plan. We don't so much protect you as we use you as live bait. Let's hope Cauterize wants to go for the dramatic rather then the practical, because if he goes for the latter I doubt we can save you, and won't that be such a pity."

Pierce snorted. The façade was almost gone.

"You have no idea what you've just done." Pierce said.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I suddenly in the presence of someone with power?"

"Surely you don't think I got here through sheer luck."

"No. I don't think that Pierce. You know what I think? I don't care how you got here. Were you someone who was denied all the necessities and vowed to never let that happen again, by any means necessary? Or were you someone who always got what he wanted and grew up thinking that was his divine right, no matter what anything or anyone else said? Something else? Who knows? I don't give a damn Pierce. I never did."

"You…"

"SHUT. UP. I know you think little of me Pierce. Some kid with powers that tries to see the world in black and white. Others have told me the same. But that's not my thought process Pierce. That's my coping mechanism. You think I don't know about men like you Pierce? As much as I loathe it, men like you run the world. Good natured, good-hearted people like the ones in that city…they exist for you to step on. And people like me…people who have to try and fight the disease, only to find that the disease is running the body. Trying to ease suffering in any way we can, only to find that for every costumed nutball and lunatic we deal with, the real enemies sit in their rooms much like this and delve out misery in a way that keeps them untouchable. We try and save the world…and nothing seems to happen. So what should we do? Roll over and give up? Get caught up in the great apathy that seems to destroy so many? Maybe that is our destiny, but no one can truly tell the future, and as long as that is the case, my friends and I will keep doing what we're doing."

Savior pushed away from the desk.

"It's probably not something we can do. We could fight crime until we're old and gray and we'll have only dealt with a tiny chunk of all that's bad. But in that…we might influence others. Maybe only a tiny number, but what we do will not be forgotten. The human animal is a truly flawed and cursed being Pierce. Driven to survive by any means necessary, combined with gifts that render such desires moot, evolution unable to remove or combine the two because both are needed to survive and survival is all evolution knows. So we have your breed Pierce, whether its in this huge mansion pulling all the strings or down in the streets killing someone for seven dollars. The fracture, the foul concoction, two sides that seemed destined to tear themselves and everyone else apart. How can we fight against something that is so much a part of ourselves? In the end, any way we can. Even if that means a lifetime of effort that yields only the bare minimum of gains. We fight to be remembered Pierce. Much like your kind does. And in the end…I think we will be successful."

Pierce was silent for a bit.

"You think you'll win?"

"You think you have?" Savior said. "Oh, maybe you think you have Pierce. After all, you're happy, right? After all, look at this. All the human animal could ever want. Money, success, power, control. The American dream."

Silence again.

"Ah…but happiness is the funny thing Pierce. We seek it out, we lament we don't have it, and we envy people like you because they seem to have it. But the truth is, misery comes to all people Pierce. It's a part of our existence. It's a part of free will. How could we really be free if we couldn't make bad decisions? And maybe you think otherwise, think you're beyond it all as you delve it out to other people while feeling none yourself…but that's not true Pierce. Everyone has to suffer. Everyone. And those like you…eventually in one way or another their misery finds them, and since they tried to deny it so long, they find a great big roaring SEA of it. I'm not religious Pierce, but I like to believe in karma. Especially when I can help deal it out." Savior said. "And even if karma doesn't come through…that's not all. There's more to life. All this Pierce…its smoke and mirrors. It's a shell for the true goal of the human brain. And that is immortality. Human beings have sought to defy death ever since they became aware of it. And a lot of them try it your way Pierce. And you may think they succeed. I mean, how many great GOOD people can you name off the top of your head, compared to bad? But…history is a funny thing too Pierce…"

Savior walked back over to the desk.

"Ever heard of Alfred de Marigny?"

Pierce gave Savior a blank look.

"Ok, how about Bruno Hauptmann? Come now, he was at the center of the trial of the century!"

"Can't say I have."

"Exactly. Hauptmann was the man convicted of the murder of Charles Lindbergh's baby. How about the Lindbergh baby? What was its sex? Its age? Its first name? Where was the body found? Do you know?"

"Why would I?" Pierce snapped.

"Of course…except that if you went back in time and told a citizen during those days that you didn't, he would have laughed in disbelief. After all, that trail mesmerized the nation, the world! It occupied the papers for months! It was the trail of the century! Except people moved on. New trials of the century happened. How about Sacco and Venzitti? They were the most famous criminal defendants in the first half of the 20th century. Now people would probably think they're a perfume from Florence. In their own way, all these men supposed achieved immortality…except it was a false one. Oh sure, you have the "elite" breed like Hitler and Jack the Ripper…but time goes on. How long will it be before Jack's name is buried in the sands of time? How long before Hitler becomes a footnote? For all the bad things that men do that supposedly consign their name to the ages…they really don't get consigned at all. And before you say the same will happen to us…perhaps not. You see, human beings tend to want to forget horrors of the past. But good things…people want to hang onto those. So I would like to think that 10,000 years down the line that the human race will, in some tiny tiny pocket, remember what we did. But you, Mr. Pierce…you'll have long since ceased to exist in any form at all. That's why we fight Pierce. Why we, I, do what I do."

Savior turned away, putting his arms behind his back as he walked to the window.

"As usual, Shakespeare said it first and said it best." Savior said. "Imperious Ceaser, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. O, that that earth which kept the world in awe, should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!"

And once again, silence.

Until Savior's communicator started to ring.

* * *

"He actually tried to arrange to have Turnquist's family hurt while we're AROUND? That goddamn scumbucket!" Beast Boy cursed.

"I know. Part of me still wishes I could have just killed him and saved us all a lot of trouble…but instead we're trying to save his life."

"Yeah well, the meek will inherit the earth! Or something!"

"Actually, there's a seldom used phrase on my planet. 'When the stars do cross and the eye of the green stares accusingly, one must stalk the roads lest he become a slick fool.'"

"…………..Dude, that doesn't make any sense."

"I know, that's why it's seldom used." Scalpel replied. "Anyway, back to the sleuthing. Did you mail that info to Robin?"

"Oh yeah…except I can't find a computer and I don't really want to use one in this house."

"Point. We should look into getting one. But until then, we must place the feet back onto amusement."

"…….Right."

"I just know there's something we're missing, but what is it?" Scalpel said, looking at the large board with their main suspects and a few possibles. "Cauterize is clearly getting his information from someone if he isn't getting it himself. If Cauterize is Roman, why did he have all his information in his apartment, yet not a trace of any gear?"

"Keep in mind that we can't really apply the normal habits of killers to him. They usually have an area where they feel safe and most won't leave the area to do what they do. But when you have speed powers…Cauterize could have his real base of operations in Canada, or Spain, or somewhere in the Australian Outback."

"Yes, That might be where Roman has gone. Cauterize hasn't been actually seen since the Tercero attack, messages being left or not."

"Still, we can't keep considering all the ways Cauterize breaks the normal mold. Maybe we should see where he fits it." Beast Boy said.

"Yes…what is it said you humans kill for, usually?"

"Sex and/or jealousy, and money. It almost always has to do with one of those two."

"Ok, how does that apply to Cauterize?"

"Well, there was Giggles…but then again, the fact that all he does is admire the women shows that maybe it isn't about sex. If he was sexually frustrated, he probably WOULD have committed those rapes. His control either indicates a superhuman restraint, either in regard to his mission or hell, maybe even to whatever morals he might still have kicking around." Beast Boy said.

"And I can't see where money applies. They wasn't any indication of robberies at the scenes of his attacks." Scalpel said.

"Maybe that means he already has both." Beast Boy said.

"Roman again?"

"Actually I was thinking of Toby."

"I don't know. From what you've told me, even if he not using his powers to cheat…"

"Yeah, but maybe if he thinks that if this is a nice town again, along with him getting back to his old glory, people will start paying attention to him and teenage girls will start throwing themselves at him again… and he supposedly likes "exotic" women…"

"I don't think so. The Speed Force isn't like steroids. You can't trace it. All Toby would have to do is subtly use it and he might achieve all that without needing to kill anyone."

"Maybe he got impatient."

"Or maybe Roman made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

"Or maybe someone else did." Beast Boy said. "What do you think of Chesbro?"

"Not sure…I think he's a man struggling with the life he's chosen. I think part of him wants to trust us and the other part can't stop reminding him of what his father did when the special person in his life let him down. What Turnquist was just forced to do probably didn't help."

"What happened with that anyway?"

"Savior talked to him, explained it, but Turnquist said he had to think some things over for a bit. He supposedly called the police station and left someone else in charge."

"Did he tell anyone that he supposedly fired Chesbro?"

"That I don't know."

* * *

The answer to that question was no.

He might not have owed the city anything, considering how it had treated him throughout his career as a police officer, surrounded by pawns who undid everything he tried to do (and cheapened everything he did do The reason Chesbro had made Detective so early in his life wasn't due to any giant case he had solved single handedly. He was good, but not a prodigy. No, the reason he had been promoted was his work in arresting and convicting a small group of heavily-armed men who had set up a drug lab on the abandoned docks. Which was fine, but rather pedestrian in its execution. Chesbro hadn't taken them down single handedly or dragged an injured police officer to safety. The bust had gone down without a shot fired. Which is why Chesbro had been puzzled that he had been given a Detective shield for it. Until the men, while awaiting trial, suddenly disappeared. No one made much effort to find them, and Chesbro knew why: they had been competing with Stephen Pierce. Chesbro had always wondered if his bust had managed to set them up to be conveniently liquidated, and that Pierce had sent word to have his unwitting dog tossed a bone. It would explain a few things…and it always made Chesbro feel ill.) Indeed, most men, after something like this, would have finally given up. But Chesbro was not the type to give up. A shrink might have said that he was transferring his feelings about his father onto the city, but Chesbro had always thought that most of them were kooks anyway. It didn't say much about a profession that based a good chunk of its teachings on things originated by someone as strange as Sigmund Freud. Ok, maybe he was getting it totally wrong on that assumption. Hell, he might even have the wrong discipline. But even though Light City was on the fast track to hell, people were still allowed private thoughts. He wouldn't be writing a newspaper article or trashing someone's reputation any time soon.

And he wasn't giving up on the Cauterize case. Turnquist may have fired him (which again was due to Pierce), but that didn't mean he couldn't perform his own investigation. And after sitting in his car for a bit and thinking it over, he had concluded that since the firing was surely motivated by something else, he didn't much care if he had to bluff his way around a bit to continue his inquiry.

So he here was, down in the basement archives of City Hall. He had gambled that Turnquist hadn't told anyone he was no longer officially on the force (and speaking of unofficial, it made Chesbro wonder if Turnquist's own tenuous position allowed him to fire people. Probably not, but he had a feeling that this injustice would be carefully swept under the rug. After all, that was what Pierce wanted), and it appeared he had been right. He had walked in and spoken to Robinson and was sent down without a second glance. True, he might only have a limited around of time down here before Robinson learned the truth, but Chesbro had been sure he could find, if not a key piece to the puzzle, maybe something to make the picture clearer.

That was becoming unlikely. Robinson had warned him that the basement archives were a huge, unkempt maze, but what they really were was something like the warehouse where the Ark of the Covenant had been hidden at the end of _Raiders of the Lost __Ark_.

On top of that, a lot of the lights had been burned out, some hallways and passages were blocked due to collapsed piles of old moldy files, and there was no map. After finding himself back where he had started after 20 minutes of wandering around, Chesbro had procured some masking tape and a pen and started leaving markers. That worked, and he had spent the last hour looking around, using his flashlight (which he had fortunately put fresh batteries in two days ago) where there was no light.

He wondered why this huge basement had been built, until he found that the City Hall had been constructed on top of an old museum. That made sense. Museums tended to have huge areas like this packed with long forgotten exhibits (wasn't that how they found the only remaining stuffed sample of a Dodo bird?), but Chesbro had a new question that hadn't yet been answered: did his city really have so many records?

"Too bad Cauterize is so homicidal, he could have found his calling down here." Chesbro mused as he found another filing cabinet that should, in theory, contain police records. He held his breath (experiences with the first few had taught him that the amount of dust these things released could be lethal) and yanked it open. After the cloud settled down, he began looking through it.

It was police records, and near the beginning was something that brought back old memories: a picture taken at the annual Officer's picnic seven years ago. Chesbro had joined the force not two months before it and at the time it had been great to see all the friends of his uncle for the first time as their fellow. It hadn't lasted: shortly after that time Pierce had really begun to sink his fingers into the city. Chesbro stared at the picture of the men, his younger face looking out at him, surrounded by men who were now gone, in one form or another, and more men who should have left, for one REASON or another. The true state that Pierce had inflicted really showed in the fact that Rudy Bialas, the late official chief, was not in the picture.

Chesbro sighed and put the photo back, and began looking through the records. Before Turnquist had given in to whatever blackmail he was being threatened with, Chesbro had stopped by the room where the teenagers had their examination going, while none of them were there. It irked him to see himself up on the suspect board, but he had tried to put that aside when he gave their inspection a once over. It wasn't bad, and it was one of the sections on that wall that had him going through these old records. The Titans had theorized that if Cauterize wasn't him, it might be another police officer due to theories on where he was getting his information. They even had a few possibles due to the little information they had gotten about various officers that might have discovered the Speed Force, the so called power that fueled Cauterize, or might have the psychological makeup that Cauterize had.

Chesbro didn't know if it could be another fellow officer, but it was a lead, something to fill his time. Once his cover was blown and he couldn't even bluff his way into a neglected records room…Chesbro didn't let himself think of that.

He went through the records for another twenty-five minutes, not finding anything of note, until the sudden drowsy feeling came out of nowhere.

"Ah crap…" Chesbro muttered, as his lids suddenly grew heavy. This was getting absurd, and what was worse, the doctor hadn't been able to find any reason for it. He theorized it might be narcolepsy, but Chesbro wasn't getting the normal symptoms of that, like an electric pain between the teeth that felt like you were chewing aluminum foil between your fillings.

He tried to put the folder he was reading back in, but his fingers fumbled and he dropped it on the floor. His limbs were growing heavy, and he fell to one knee. He didn't want to pass out down here. He didn't know why. Maybe there was a monster living down here and it would drag him away and eat him…

"Monster." Chesbro chuckled, as he slumped down. "You really are…going…"

Darkness…

_Eyes…_

Chesbro jerked up.

He didn't know if he has passed out or just started to, but he knew what had aroused him from the intense sleepiness: a faint footstep.

Someone else was down here.

And he doubted they were friendly. Even IF someone else had wandered down here or come for a specific reason, they probably would have yelled to get Chesbro's attention. So if they weren't trying to…

Chesbro knew he had been taken off the case because Pierce saw him as a threat, especially considering the fact that the teenagers and Cauterize had attacked the structure of his empire in their own ways. Chesbro wouldn't put it past Pierce to make sure that Chesbro never got back on the case…or any case at all. It wouldn't have been hard to find out where Chesbro was: Pierce had more then a few stoolies in City Hall. And hell, down here…Chesbro could disappear forever.

The drowsiness fading as quickly as it had begun, Chesbro slowly raised himself up, listening…

There. That way. Very faint footsteps.

Turnquist may have taken Chesbro's police issue gun, but he hadn't taken Chesbro's personal small sidearm that he had strapped to his ankle. Chesbro removed it and slowly stood up. He turned off his flashlight, leaving him in dimness.

He began to walk slowly down the hall, listening, trying to determine if the footsteps were moving towards or away from him. Without the flashlight to act as a signal, and if he and whatever else was down here didn't make any noise, they could literally wander around for hours, maybe even days.

A few more footsteps. Close. Chesbro raised up his gun in front of him in case anything came around the corner. Nothing did, and he slowly peered around it to make sure no one else was setting up for the same trap. The hallway composed of file cabinets around the corner ended in darkness: the lights above it had long since burnt out, picking up near the end where the hallway forked. In the middle of the darkness, Chesbro could dimly make out an opening. An entrance to another room.

Chesbro slowly approached the darkness, trying to resist the urge to flick on his flashlight. It might illuminate a foe, but it also might be the equivalent of painting a bull's-eye on himself. So he walked into the murk, letting his eyes adjust…

A slight noise to his left. From whatever lay behind the entrance. That settled it in Chesbro's mind. A normal person wouldn't be wandering around a pitch-black room.

He quickly slipped through the entrance, not wanting to take the chance that the little light that existed at the edges of the line of darkness would backlight his form and give him away. In here, the darkness was absolute, the kind of dark that made men wonder if their body had somehow ceased to exist and their consciousness had been imprisoned for crimes real or imagined.

Slowly, Chesbro walked forward, straining his ears for any sound that might give him an indication of where his companion was, walking with knees slightly bent and rolling his foot from heel to toe in the way professionals did it (he would have brought to mind Sam Fisher from the _Splinter Cell_ series, except Chesbro didn't play video games) when they wanted to be quiet, his gun ahead of him, hoping he didn't kick or trip over something or walk into a wall or do something that gave away his position…

A small desk lamp suddenly turned on.

It the pitch black, the light almost blinded him, but he retained enough of his training to swing the gun at where the light had come from as he blinked rapidly to clear his eyes, hoping they didn't shoot…

"Well. You were one of the last people I expected to see down here."

And that was one of the last voices Chesbro had expected to here, as his vision finally cleared and he could get a good look at what he was aiming his gun at.

His suit may have been dirty and torn, and his face was scrawled with a few days' growth of beard, but there was no mistaking the darkly handsome face of Roman Fernendez.

"Roman." Chesbro said in some surprise.

"Chesbro, I believe." Roman said, interlacing his fingers on the small, battered desk he was sitting at. They were in a small room surrounded by filing cabinets. In one corner was a battered couch with a moldy old blanket and a garbage bin, the only furniture in the room besides the small desk he was sitting at, strew with papers.

"So this is where you've been hiding." Chesbro said. He didn't lower the gun though: one couldn't be too careful.

"Well, so the detective proves his mettle, eh? What an astounding feat of reasoning, deducing that I am in the room after I revealed myself to indeed be in it." Roman said, with a faint trace of sarcasm and bitterness.

"What are you doing down here?"

"Oh, I think you already know that, don't you Detective? After all, you're here to kill me."

That actually struck Chesbro speechless, for a second anyway.

"Excuse me?"

"What did Pierce offer you?"

That offended Chesbro.

"I can assure you I am NOT in the employ of Stephen Pierce."

"Tercero said that to me too, once. He's dead, isn't he?"

"….Yes."

"I figured. I run to find a bathroom and I'm washing my hands when suddenly I hear explosions. So I run out into chaos and nearly get trampled by a crowd, literally…" Roman said, indicating that his jacket did have a few faded footprints on it. "And then nearly get crushed by some falling wreckage and everyone is screaming…and I knew Cauterize had struck. And I figured Tercero was dead. And I knew then that I'd probably be dead soon too."

"Why?"

"You know exactly why Chesbro, even IF you're not my assassin. Pierce owns this town. He thinks that this place is his plaything. And Cauterize was taking away his best toys. I know how Pierce thinks, detective. When a problem occurs, the first thing he does is eliminate factors that make it worse. Maybe he could have contained it with Bialas…but when Tercero was killed, I knew that it was going to spiral out of control. When a man like Pierce panics detective, bad things happen. Tercero had been there since the beginning. With him gone, serious problems could arise…unless Pierce got rid of the people who could cause them. I'll wager you'll find a few city hall employees with ambitions and balls dead in the next few days. Not because of Cauterize though. Because of Pierce making sure that they don't become an obstacle to him reestablishing control. Doesn't matter who they are or what they want. It's what Pierce wants. That's the way of this city now, isn't it?"

"So you figured you'd be a target?"

"Chesbro, I'd be THE target. I am Mayor now officially that Tercero is dead, right?"

"Well there will probably be some kind of election…"

"That's not for a bit. For the moment, I am mayor…and Pierce doesn't want this. I'm sure Tercero told him all about me during their phone calls. And I've had the strange feeling that someone's been watching me for months. Pierce knows I won't play ball like Tercero did. Pierce knows I want this city to be more then his little slice of heaven. And Pierce will ensure that I don't get in his way. I thought hiding down here might be enough, until this huge mess works itself out in whatever way it does…but that's gone now. You found me, others will as well. I'll soon be just like the others, those poor fools who tried to throw their weight around. They should have learned you can't fight City Hall, especially with someone like Pierce at the helm."  
"Roman…Cauterize has targeted Pierce. He'd currently being guarded by those teenagers, who dislike him even more then you do. I think he's too busy to worry about you."

"Ah Detective, I wish I could believe that. But I know better. And so do you. That's why you're down here, aren't you?"

"I'm down here as part of the investigation…"

"Bullshit. Even with his ghost act, there are probably far firmer leads to follow on Cauterize then this. People don't come down here for useful information Chesbro. They come down here not to be seen. And since you're in so deep that you stumbled over me…you got kicked off, didn't you?"

Chesbro said nothing.

"I'll take that as a yes. Pierce saw you as a threat and took steps to remove you, and since you're down here now I assume this is recent. Did that Turntwist do it? Or was he removed first? Pierce surely saw the danger with him. After all, he actually wanted to do his JOB."

"I can take you quietly. We can protect you." Chesbro said.

"From what? From Pierce? You think you can do that? Even if Cauterize gets him…you think he hasn't left orders to his men? You think they won't all scatter to the wind to carry out the last tasks of their boss? Pierce knows how to pick them Chesbro. His men are very loyal, much more so then the usual scum that surrounds these types. And even IF that doesn't happen…it doesn't matter. I put up with a lot on the faint chance that I could help this city…but I know now that even with Tercero dead and the chance Pierce could join him…it's too late. This city is fucked."

"It's not totally fucked yet." Chesbro replied.

"Oh yes it is. I HAVE IT ON RECORD!" Chesbro yelled, as he reached over to a pile of paper, seized a unit of it, stood up, and hurled it at Chesbro. Chesbro put up his arm as it bounced off him, and then he leaned down and picked it up, finally lowering his gun, though he didn't put it away as he looked at the front page of the paper.

"These are the papers from Tercero's safe, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"And you knew the combination."

"Wasn't hard to sneak it and take them. The whole place was in an uproar when I did so. I could have been wearing a clown suit and no one would have noticed me."

"Hmmpph. That time we spoke outside Tercero's office, you said that night you were home…you weren't home, were you? You were breaking into the safe because you had your own suspicions."

"Well, good to see you earned your shield somewhat."

Chesbro didn't reply to that. He was looking at the papers. They were from some company with way too many syllables in their name for Chesbro's tastes, and he didn't recognize them until halfway through when he realized they were the company that owned the chemical plants on the edge of Light City. The papers were filled with gobbledygook Chesbro didn't understand, though it seemed to have something to do with "refining" and "reducing atmosphere contamination". He got to the end and found a note scribbled next to the end, which had a line for a signee that was blank. The note said "TT MP, Ask G Ex 2 DY?", though Chesbro had no idea what that meant.

"Understand?" Roman asked.

"Barely." Chesbro said.

"What that is is a notice from Shawkcorktenningwillis Inc. The company that built and runs those abominations that have blocked out our namesake for years. Seems that they're changing around their primary business soon. They want to redesign the plants so they can manufacture some new products."

"So how does this ruin the city?"

"Can't you read? THEY WANT TO REBUILD! Sure, it will cost money on our end…but nothing we can't handle, especially if we liquidate the slush funds the late Mayor Tercero had set up. Don't you see? Not only would this provide many new jobs for the rebuilding and the running of the new plants, the NEW ONES WOULDN'T PUMP OUT ANY MORE SMOKE! Which means the clouds eventually disappear, the city has a chance to get back on its feet, and maybe, just maybe, THE TOURISTS START COMING BACK! I think the company knew this: they were offering us this chance to be one of the first plants they refined to HELP US! AND THE BASTARD TERCERO WAS GOING TO TURN THEM DOWN! HE MIGHT HAVE ALREADY HAVE!"

"That's what this caption says?"

"Translating his code, it says "Threat To Mr. Pierce. Ask Good Excuse To Deny?". He had a chance to save this town, to help stop the decline…but he was going to throw it all away because if he did…this is Stephen Pierce's town now. He can't have a heaven unless everyone else is in hell. That's the way men like him are…and Tercero went along with it…Bialas probably did too…they sold their souls…and the rest of us down the river…why…all I ever wanted was to help…why do men like Pierce always win…"

Chesbro looked away from the papers. Roman was sitting down again, his face in his hands, muttering to himself.

He didn't like what he had to do then…but he couldn't take the chance.

"Roman…"

"They always win…even with people like Cauterize…why…this used to be such a nice town…"

That last two words settled it, as Chesbro brought out his handcuffs and quickly snapped one end around Roman's left wrist.

Roman jerked up but Chesbro had him, as he spun around him, pulling Roman's left arm back behind him as he grabbed his right arm and yanked it back, snapping the other handcuff on before Roman knew what was happening.

"HEY! WHAT THE HELL!"

"Sorry Roman. But you're under arrest."

"You can't arrest me! You're not even a cop any more!"

"You don't know that." Chesbro said as he rolled up the papers that told the tale of what Tercero's corruption had wrought and put it in a pocket.

"Why the hell are you arresting me? For breaking into the safe?"

"No. On suspicion of being Cauterize. You have the right to remain silent…"

"I'M NOT CAUTERIZE YOU IDIOT!" Roman yelled as he began to thrash around, but Chesbro had controlled bigger and wilder suspects then him.

"If you choose to give up the right to remain silent anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

"IF I WAS CAUTERIZE WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING DOWN HERE! I'D HAVE GONE AFTER PIERCE FIRST THING! I AM NOT CAUTERIZE!"

"You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided to you…" Chesbro intoned as he found his flashlight and turned it on so he could make his way out through the dark hallway. "Do you understand these rights as I have explained to you?"

"NO! YES! DAMMIT CHESBRO, I'M NO MORE CAUTERIZE THEN YOU ARE!"

"Doubtful." Chesbro said, and began pushing Roman along.

* * *

"So, what's going to happen with Terra?" Scalpel suddenly said.

Beast Boy jerked up from the paper he was looking at, surprised at the suddenness of the question. They two of them had been quietly reading for nearly twelve minutes beforehand, so it was fairly abrupt.

"Well uh…" Beast Boy said, suddenly feeling shy.

"Yeah?" Scalpel said, his eyes sparkling in the way that people look when they're awaiting juicy details. For some reason the look irritated Beast Boy.

"We might have gotten somewhere, if you hadn't COME CRASHING THROUGH THE WINDOW!"

"What? That was an accident!"

"It still wrecked the moment…" Beast Boy said, and sighed.

"But still, that's good! There was a moment! That means that there is something there! Now you just have to establish another moment!"

"But…how?"

"How about asking her out on a date?"

"Um…" Beast Boy said, suddenly feeling intensely shy. Scalpel looked incredulous.

"Oh come on not THIS again!"

"I can't help it! There's just so much, with how we once liked each other and then we didn't and then we did again or I did and I think she does but I don't know if she does so I don't know just what to do…" Beast Boy babbled, and then he turned into a sheep.

Scalpel sighed.

"Ok Beast Boy, time to CUT to the chase…" Scalpel said, waving one arm. Sheep Beast Boy's eyes bugged out at this motion. "Oh. Sorry, must stop doing that. It's clear she likes you. You like her. Just tell her. I'm sure everything will work out for the best."

"I don't know…"

"Ok, FINE. If YOU don't do it, I'll go to HER and tell HER to do it. Maybe SHE'LL be willing to make the leap."

"WHAT? Dude, no, don't!"

"Why not? It would solve this problem, which even I have to admit is getting tedious."

"Dude, that's crazy!"

"No, THIS is crazy." Scalpel said, and suddenly jumped onto the table. "KILL EVERYONE NOW! CONDONE FIRST-DEGREE MURDER! ADVOCATE CANNIBALISM! EAT SHIT! FILTH ARE MY POLITICS, FILTH IS MY LIFE!" Scalpel bellowed, and then grabbed the back of his head and pulled himself over and down onto the table in a self-inflicted flip.

Beast Boy stared.

"I knew you watching all those John Waters movies on the late night art channel would do something bad." He finally said.

"Yes, but considering their content, how can one look away?" Scalpel said from his position on the table.

Then their communicators rang. Scalpel answered his first.

"THE RATS ARE COMING! THE WEREWOLVES ARE HERE!" He hollered into it.

Savior looked a tad startled, and then he didn't look amused.

"Get to the main room guys. We have some new information that could wrap this all up."

* * *

"They found Roman?" Terra asked.

"He was hiding in the records maze under City Hall. Detective Chesbro stumbled over him." Savior said, not noticing Stephen Pierce's look of surprise at that bit of information. He didn't much care if the crime lord (in theory anyway) heard him: Roman was under lock and key. Even Pierce would have some trouble getting to him, especially considering that his plan to unseat Turnquist had failed (though Savior hadn't told him that Turnquist was not back at the station but at home, once again thinking over the risks of going forward with his choices). Even more so that Pierce had all of his good men in the house (they seemed to be everywhere, glaring at the Titans), supposedly to protect him. And if Roman was Cauterize…well, they wouldn't need to worry about him. "They're going to interview him now."

"Well, good. They uncovered that evidence in his home, right? Surely you should go and keep an eye on him instead of me!" Pierce said.

"I don't think so." Savior said, looking over. "There's no serious proof. And even if he is the vigilante, if we go stay in HIS presence he could be gone and back before we realize it, with his goal your elimination. No Pierce. We're staying RIGHT here."

"What about Toby?" Beast Boy asked.

"The department has gone nuts again, both on the fact they found the Deputy Who Is Now A Mayor and the fact that he could also be the vigilante. I don't think they want me to call up and tell them they might just have the middleman. They're going to keep me posted on anything they learn from the interrogation. When it cools down, I'm going to call them. Actually, come to think of it…maybe I should call now. Something just occurred to me…" Savior said, opening his cell phone. "You guys stay in the room for the moment."

Savior left Pierce's office, glad he could hand off the duty of glaring at the bastard for a bit. He dialed the number he had been giving.

"Chesbro." Came the answer.

"Detective?"

"Only if you don't decide to rat me out."

"Point."

"No one here has heard either…but I suppose it's only a matter of time. But I think it would be far more beneficial if you allow me to keep up my ruse."

"It shouldn't be a ruse."

"Excuse me?"

"Call Turnquist."

"I'd rather not."

"Dammit Chesbro, stop being so stubborn and try listening to me!"

"Why are you calling?" Chesbro said, changing the subject like he always did. Savior rolled his eyes.

"Who's doing the interrogation?"

"Not me. If we need to go to court they could use the fact that at the time I was not an officer of the law against me. It's a pair named Micheal Kahn and Greg Iles."

"They any good?"

"Quite so."

"Ok, have them ask Roman why he kept visiting Light City High every month for nearly a year."

"Why?"

"Because things are never this easy. I'll call back." Savior said, and walked back into the room. "Ok guys. Scalpel, you're with me on the research again. Beast Boy, you're doing the aerial reconnaissance. Terra, you're guarding Mr. Pierce now. Try and keep him as comfortable as possible."

"And what might that be?"

"You decide." Savior said and disappeared out the door again.

"Enough of this nonsense." Pierce said, standing up. "I am going to use the facilities, and don't care WHAT you say or try and do!"

What Terra did was follow him all the way to said washroom. For a moment, Pierce thought she was going to follow him in. But she didn't.

Good thing. Pierce had been fighting with his rage all day, and what these teenagers were doing and what they were planning. They had even gotten around his carefully constructed initial plan to regain control, and it was quite clear they wouldn't be leaving until they had ruined him.

And he'd had enough. It didn't matter what they said. His men could protect him from Cauterize, even if just as human shields. The teenagers had to go.

And he knew just how, as he walked over to the toilet and felt underneath it. He quickly found the small box that concealed a cell phone. The freaks might have thought they had ripped apart all his phones, but Pierce had always thought outside the box. You never know when you might need a phone.

He turned the water on the sinks on and dialed a very special number, hoping that the white haired impudent leader and that alien escapee from a bad sci-fi film had gone back to their "study room". He didn't have any guards in there, and that was needed. Assuming the green mutant was now doing his flying duties, only the bubblehead might hear the cell phone ringing, and that was if one of his minions was nearby. All in all, he was pretty sure none of them would realize what he was doing. It would only become glaringly obvious if a lot of his men were grouped together, and they weren't. Good thing, because the number Pierce had dialed was connected to ALL their cell phones: five or six men getting calls at the EXACT same time would be far more then enough to make those damn teenagers suspicious.

He heard people begin to pick up. They already knew why he was calling: dialing this number made all their phones ring a special way. He waited fifteen seconds, no one speaking, as he heard more and more clicks. When they stopped, he assumed they had all picked up.

"Everyone who is in the field, return to the main base. Act like you're reinforcing your fellows. When everyone is here, wait. Bide your time. But by nightfall, the second you have a chance, any chance…execute the freaks. They might have powers, but none of them have eyes on the back of their heads, and bullets will kill them just as dead as you or me. They've got their attention focused elsewhere: do it right and quietly and none of them will see it coming. Any man who kills one will be greatly rewarded, but all of you MUST make the attempt, OR ELSE." Pierce said, and hung up. He turned off the sink, wiped the cell phone clear of prints, and replaced it. He flushed the toilet and opened the door to see Terra leaning against the wall, watching him with eyes that showed languidity, alertness, and some intense dislike at the same time.

"Done? Good. Back to your cage." Terra said, jerking her head. Pierce felt the rage rise up in him. He wanted to strangle the damn teenager…but he didn't. Instead, he listened. He gave the impression that he had been cowed and beaten by them.

And later that night, once they were dead, he'd drive their bodies over to the chemical factories and personally see to their disposal. Even IF their fellows showed up looking, they couldn't prove he was behind it without evidence, and he was very good at getting rid of evidence. Maybe he could even pin it on that Cauterize. That would certainly be a delicious thing to see, the Titans getting advice from the man who had gotten rid of their fellows.

In a small way, Pierce pitied them. They thought they were so wise and so learned. But in the end, they were still children, who had not learned the lesson of what happened when you play with fire.

Now they were going to get burned. To cinders.

* * *

"Strange he didn't utter the L word the second he was put in there." Lieutenant Fielding said. A squat man with powerful legs and a bullet shaped bald head, whose soft, almost mushy face concealed his eyes and gave him the look of a dunce, many people had underestimated Fielding. But when one saw his eyes, you couldn't help but notice the sharpness, which is why Turnquist had picked him to be in charge for the moment.

"Don't jinx us." Chesbro said, looking through the one-way mirror at the interrogation room where Roman Fernendez currently was. He was chained to the chair, and he didn't look happy about that or the two officers who were interviewing him. Micheal Khan looked like a taller and bigger Adam Sandler, while Greg Iles was a redhead with a trimmed beard and mustache, wire-frame glasses, and a penchant for nice suits that were cheap at the same time. They were doing the old game of Good Cop Bad Cop, with Khan playing the bad cop (which surprised a lot of people, which is why other men then Roman had not uttered the L word, which happened to be lawyer, and if you know your crime shows, you know why police don't want to hear that word).

"…should know damn well why I would have to go into hiding." Roman was saying.

"Oh come on now Fernendez. You really think that Pierce is out to get you? Have you seen someone about these intense feelings of paranoia?" Khan said.

"I don't know. Have you seen an eye doctor?"

"No, why?"

"Because if you can't see WHY Pierce would be out to get me, you are clearly going BLIND!"

"Hey hey, calm down Roman. It's ok." Iles said.

"Please. Spare me the condescending act and the bully pulpit. Just get to whatever point you want to make."

"Ok." Khan said, reaching under the table where he had a small desk, grabbing something and tossing it in front of Roman, who glanced at it.

Then his eyes went wide with shock as he looked at the papers had taken from his apartment.

"What…what…" he said, beginning to stammer.

"We checked the handwriting on those. It matches yours. Not to mention there were a lot of those in that special room you had."

"What? Why were you in my apartment? How…?"

"That's a lot of information on the late Chief Bialas. An obsessive amount. More then enough to set up what Cauterize did. I'll admit he was an ass-kissing toady, but in some small part of him, he was still a cop. He didn't deserve what you did to him Roman."

"I AM NOT CAUTERIZE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Then explain these!"

"You would only twist it to use against me since you clearly can't find the real deal!"

"You keep saying you're not that, Roman. So if you won't explain those, explain these." Khan said, reaching into the desk again and tossing out something else. The pornographic magazines, now in plastic bags.

This time, Roman looked more stunned and confused, as he picked up one and looked at the cover that could be called quite indecent: normal stores stocking it probably would have kept it at the very top of the rack.

"I've never seen these before in my life."

"They were in your bedroom."

"Someone planted them there!"

"We found your fingerprints on them."

"LIAR!!!!!!!!!!!!" Roman roared, trying to stand up and not really succeeding due to the chains. "I! AM! NOT! **_CAUTERIZE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**"

"Ok, let's say someone planted the magazines. What about that little room you had?" Iles said.

"With the map and the data and all the observations and records and ways they matched up…" Khan followed.

Roman looked back and forth at the two, and then he sat down with a deep sigh.

"They were…therapy."

"Therapy?" Khan said in a clear incredulous tone.

"Were you born here officers?"

"I was." Khan said.

"Raised here?"

"Yes."

"Then you know what this city was once like. It had its problems, all cities do. But the city was HAPPY. It was a nice place to visit and to live. And now…look at all that's happened. The streets are death traps, zones where hope is dead. The people assigned to help the little men, including your fellows, have been removed, compromised, or bought off, sowed with men and women who spit in the faces of their associates with what they do and undo. And it just would not stop. It was like the city was cursed. And six months ago, when I was sitting in on an interview that Tercero was giving to some paper, listening to him lie and lie and lie, for the sake of a chosen few…I couldn't take it any more. So I started doing research. Pulling records. Even doing a few things that might not be considered legal. I started connecting all the dots that no one else wanted or dared to connect. I hoped that some day, some day, all the information I was gathering could be used to help this city…instead all I did was write my own death warrant, one you've already signed off on. But that is why I had that room gentlemen. So I wouldn't go mad. But in the end, it didn't matter. The world went mad anyway."

Silence.

"Nice speech. Actually expect us to buy it?" Khan said.

"If you really want what's best for this city, instead of what's best for Pierce, you will. We have a chance. His methods aside, that vigilante has given us a CHANCE. But we can't take it if you're too busy trying to find someone to blame."

"We're not trying to find someone to blame Roman." Iles said.

"Oh?"

"Come on Roman. Look at it from our perspective. From our view…we don't need to look for someone. I think we already found the right man."

Roman looked at Khan, and then he sighed again.

"Then we have nothing more to talk about. Go lock me up. I'd like a nice funeral. Make sure there's plenty of flowers." Roman said, his fire having gone out again, his nihilistic attitude that he had demonstrated to Chesbro coming back in full force. Iles and Khan prodded at him, but Roman crossed his arms and refused to budge. The only question he answered was when Iles switched gears and asked him Chesbro's question on why he kept visiting Light City High. Roman said something about having an arrangement with the principal to try and keep the school running since he had graduated from it. They tried to build on that, but after that lone answer Roman clammed up again.

Chesbro was about to suggest to Fielding they change something when his cell phone rang. He answered it.

"Anything?" Savior asked.

"Nothing."

"What about all that stuff he had?"

"He claimed that it was his therapy for dealing for how bad the town had gotten."

"How about the school?"

"Some toss off answer about helping the principal."

"Is that true?"

"I don't know. Possible…but we'd have to speak with him."

"His name is Kelvin Tugwell. Check the phone book."

"I will."

"Oh yes, something else. Check his left arm for a scar."

"You mean the scar you think I'm hiding?"

"Just do it Detective."

Chesbro lowered the phone though he didn't hang up, as he pushed past the other two cops in the room and left, heading to the next door that let him into the interview room.

"Chesbro." Iles said, turning around.

"Hello Chesbro. I won't be saying anything else to you either." Roman said, and went back to staring at the wall that was past the three cops.

"Iles, Khan." Chesbro said. "The vigilante may have suffered a cut on his left arm during the fight two days ago. Roman, you can either remove your shirt and let us check you for that cut, or we can examine you whether you want to be or not."

Roman glared at the three for a bit, and then he stood up, shrugged off his ruined suit jacket, and undid the cuff button on his dirty and sweat-stained shirt, shoving it up to his shoulder.

"Where did the injury occur?" Chesbro said into the phone.

"Forearm."

Iles and Khan were already looking, and Chesbro joined them.

All he found was smooth skin with a light coat of dark hair. It was the same on the entirety of his left arm. Same with the right arm. There wasn't even a scar, any indication that there had been a wound.

"Ok, that will be all. Nothing." Chesbro said, the last word going into the phone.

"Nothing?"

"At all."

"Damn."

"Does this eliminate him as a suspect?" Chesbro asked, more in idle curiosity of what the teenager would say then an actual question.

"I don't know. Some Speed Force users can manipulate their body on the molecular level. Cauterize has shown clear evidence he can do that. If he can manipulate his body so that he had literally phase through objects, I don't think it would be too hard to speed up the healing of a cut on his arm."

"All right. Well, that means we still have nothing."

"All right. We'll stay diligent on this end." Savior replied, and ended the call. Chesbro put the phone away and headed back into the observation room.

"…anything?" One of the cops was saying as he stepped in. Iles and Khan had joined the group in the room, leaving Roman alone, staring at the wall.

"I'm sure we can think of something. If anything, it will make me breathe a little easier." Fielding replied.

"What's the plan?"

"We can use that room of his to hold him for a bit, but guys, you better find something like a costume or a smoking gun, because circumstantial evidence will only take us so far."

"What about Pierce?"

"He may have a point, but don't worry. I'm putting Trotter and Jenkins on him."

That did make Chesbro feel a little better. Percy Trotter had eyes like a hawk and ears like that alien that was with the Titans, and while Tommy Jenkins wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, he was big, strong, surprisingly quick, and highly loyal to Trotter. And they were, as far as Chesbro knew, clean. With them camped outside Roman's cell, Pierce would have to send a whole gang of men to get rid of Roman, if he indeed did want to get rid of him.

Then again…

"Khan, you really shouldn't make up evidence. Those magazines DIDN'T have Roman's fingerprints on them."

"So maybe he wore gloves. Didn't they find a box of surgical gloves in his bedroom as well?"

"I think so, but that doesn't meant that. It's those kinds of accusations that defense lawyers love to use to paint us as the bad guys."

"Well, I figured it might pay off if we rattled his tree and saw what fell out."

"Which was nothing in the end…but all right, fair enough. I'll get back to my end." Chesbro said. He winced inwardly as he heard the phrase, being reminded that he was on borrowed time before SOMEONE figured out he wasn't officially a cop any more. He left the room as he saw two other uniformed officers unlocking Roman from his chair so they could take him to a holding cell.

He wondered if that would keep the people Roman feared out.

Or if it would keep Roman IN.

* * *

Savior put away his cell and pulled out the communicator (man, he was really getting his money's worth out of this thing), contacting everybody who wasn't in the room with him.

"So far no good. They're holding Roman, but it's only a matter of time before he posts bail or something that makes him slip through their fingers. Unless they find something more concrete."

"So what do we do?" Beast Boy said.

"Keep doing the surveillance. Scalpel and I will refocus. We're going to look at everything that points to Roman as the suspect, and after that look at everything that points at him HELPING our suspects. Toby, Chesbro, the others…see if we can draw any connections."

"What is he isn't involved at ALL?" Terra asked.

"I suppose that's a possibility…but it hardly holds any water at the moment. We'll speak in a bit on switching around. Keep your eyes peeled. If Roman's a dead end, this could be a prime opportunity for Cauterize. Let's try not to get caught with our pants down." Savior said, and ended the communication. "Scalpel, did you send our primary data to Robin?"

"Actually…no. We were worried that if we used a computer in this place it could become compromised."

"WHAT?"

"You know it's true."

"Ok, fine, fine…" Savior said. "We'll send it by fax!"

"That could take forever."

"I know, that's why I'M doing it." Savior said.

"What, you're not punishing me?"

"I would, except I remember the LAST time you tried to use a fax machine."

(Flashback)

"THE MACHINE IS EATING MY PICTURES!"

"No Nigel don't…!"

CRASH!

"Take that, foul devourer of vacation memories!"

(End flashback)

"It's not my fault no one explained how a fax machine worked."

"Whatever." Savior said as he walked out.

* * *

Several hours passed, and night began to creep onto Light City, the sun being swallowed by the earth much like the moon had long been swallowed by the clouds around this blighted town.

Chesbro knew it was done when he, while leaning over a newspaper article, had noticed out of a corner of his eye two officers talking, a male and a female. He wouldn't have really cared, except when he had glanced at them, they had been looking at him, and then had turned away.

Chesbro knew that kind of position. The reserved posture and the eyes trying to look everywhere but where they wanted.

They knew. Maybe just in rumor, but they knew.

Chesbro sighed. Time to go.

He quickly gathered up his papers and acted like he was going to the copy room to have some work done on them, ignoring the two as they looked at him, ignoring that another officer had come up to speak to them. As Chesbro went around the corner, he thought he saw one of them point.

It didn't matter. He had what he needed. He'd gone to the armory and signed out a new gun (the guard was an old academy friend who didn't suspect a thing). He'd also gotten all the new data he needed (funny how he thought he had to go to the records room where he had stumbled over Roman when he could have just come back. Turnquist had apparently had some crisis on the way back and decided not to come in. Chesbro wasn't sure what was going on there…and at the moment he didn't care), and had recently checked up on Roman (still in his cell). The rest he could do at home…

For now…

There was still the problem of what he was going to do after this.

He had reached the garage by now, and he pulled out his keys and unlocked his car, sitting down.

And staying there.

When he had been a child, he had wanted his father to love him. When it had finally become clear that was never going to happen the way he wanted it to, he wanted to become like his uncle. And once he was a cop, he wanted to help people like his uncle had helped him.

Now that was gone.

What the hell was he going to do with his life?

…………He'd answer that later.

He inserted the key, started the engine, and drove off. No one tried to stop him. No one pointed at him and yelled "FRAUD!" He left the station without incident. No one followed him.

He looked at the papers in the seat next to him, trying to puzzle things out again. What was he missing…

And suddenly his vision started to blur, and drowsiness pervaded his mind.

"Aw no…" Chesbro said as he pulled over onto the street, trying to keep his eyes open. But the darkness was relentless…

"What's WRONG with me?" Chesbro asked himself.

And then the murk consumed him.

* * *

The Semi-Titans had had a relatively uneventful day as well, as they switched around their positions. Not much was done. The stuff they had theorized about Roman was nothing they hadn't theorized before, and looking at all the punks and killers that were lounging around the house, guns barely concealed in their coats and pants, and having to look after Stephen Pierce, who clearly wanted them gone and/or dead (but not even they realized how much so…) did not make for a very joyful time.

It was Scalpel's turn to guard Pierce, and all Pierce had done was write documents, trying to ignore the fact that he was there. All Scalpel had noticed was that Pierce had some kind of special pen. He'd write the documents with a normal pen, then take out a small gold-lined case he had in his inside jacket pocket, take out a gold and black pen, sign them, and then put it back. He'd done it at least a dozen times and it was beginning to make Scalpel antsy. He'd looked at the documents, but they looked legit, and none of them were leaving the room, so Scalpel assumed they were good, so to speak.

Beast Boy was back on surveillance, and Savior and Terra were currently doing research. Or they had been until ten minutes ago, until Terra broke down and said she was afraid that she had lost her chance with Beast Boy and she didn't know what to do. Had Savior had a little less control, he probably would have started banging his head against the wall. Instead, he sat and listened to Terra's lament about how she was worried she had scared Beast Boy off and she didn't know whether to repeat her actions or if what she felt was really going to be reciprocated or…

"Terra." Savior said in the middle of it.

"What?"

"Let me see if I can put this delicately…there are no conspiracies or mistaken identities or little green men trying to do everything they can to confuse you. What you saw was what there was. All I can say is that you should just do what you were going to do again."

"But…I don't know if I can."

Savior resisted the urge to mutter into his hand. Why him?

"Ok…what would help you do it?"

"I don't know."

The urge was a lot stronger now._ Danger Will Robinson…hull is about to be breached…_Savior thought, mashing together two sci-fi pop culture references.

"There must be something!"

"I don't know Savior…I know now…but I just can't…I wish…I need…why can't…I need a sign."

This time Savior had to resist the urge to make a sign with the Shimmer that said "KISS HIM YOU BLOCKHEAD!"

"Well Terra…ok…I think that your sign will come soon."  
"Really?"

_Yeah, and I'll also swear my loyalty to Kim Jong-Il and go hunting for the Fountain of Youth if YOU WILL JUST STOP BUGGING ME!_

"Really Terra."

"But what will it be?"

That was it. He was going to lock them in a room. He had beaten around the bush long enough…

And then it all went to hell.

* * *

In the curtains in the room behind Savior, one of the men who had been in the Rolls when Pierce had originally made overtures to the teenager carefully drew a bead on the back of Savior's head. He was a great shot, and the teenager didn't have a clue…

* * *

And down in the precinct, the rumor about Chesbro had finally built up enough force to have the whole department buzzing and on edge, with no one getting the facts straight. All they knew was that Chesbro had been relieved of his duties, yet he had so brazenly come back to the department afterward as if nothing had happened, bringing Roman with him. The fact that Turnquist wasn't answering his phone just made it worse. Theories were circulating with everything that Chesbro and Roman were working together to that Chesbro had murdered Turnquist and disposed of his body.

Officer Percy Trotter didn't care much. He took his duty very seriously, and that was to watch Roman Fernendez. But even duty had to be shirked for certain things. Like getting a drink of water.

"Be gone for just a bit Tommy." Trotter said.

"Ok." Tommy Jenkins replied, not moving from where he was sitting.

Trotter headed for the door at the end of the hallway, opened it and walked out. He didn't close the door, and it was the kind that took a while to close. He walked over to the sink, filled a paper cup…

And the door suddenly slammed open so hard it nearly flew off its hinges. The cup went flying as Trotter jumped and then turned, drawing his gun as another blast of noise erupted…from within the holding cell.

"TOMMY!" Trotter yelled, running in.

There was a slight haze of smoke in the holding cell room, but far from enough to keep Percy Trotter from seeing the inside of the room.

Jenkins was on the floor next to his seat, face down. The cell that he had been so carefully watching's door was now swung open, the lock a mangled mess as if someone had set off a bomb in it.

And Roman Fernendez was gone.

"SHIT! Tommy!" Trotter said, running over to his partner and friend and checking him for a pulse. He found a strong one, and a moan escaping the big man allayed his fears…which quickly morphed into new worries over what had just happened.

"Tommy?"

"Uh…Per…someone hit me…didn't see a thing…Roman was in his cell and then there was a bang and then…" Tommy muttered, holding the back of his head.

Several officers exploded through the door, almost getting jammed together in the narrow entrance, Lieutenant Fielding close behind.

"What the hell is going on?" he yelled, before he saw the cell. His eyes widened.

"SHIT! The bastard WAS Cauterize! He broke out! Call those teenagers! Get everyone up to Pierce's house! MOVE!" Fielding yelled, and the police station quickly became a madhouse as everyone reacted to this sudden event.

"…SWAT together…"

"…Call Turnquist…"

"…Chesbro do something…"

"…Any more holes…"

"…Call the house…"

"Everyone except the injured and the few on desk duty arm up and MOVE! The bastard is NOT getting away with this one!" Fielding ordered to the men running around.

"Chief!"

"Have the SWAT team go in first maybe they can get someone with the tear gas…"

"Lieutenant!"

"What do you mean you can't find your gun FORGET IT GET ONE FROM YOU…!"

"FIELDING!"

"WHAT!"

"THE DOORS WON'T OPEN!"

"WHAT?" Fielding yelled at the flush faced officer that had just come back up the stairs. "That can't be right! The doors don't have locks!"

"They won't open! Front OR back! The garage doors are sealed shut too! It's like someone took a welding torch to them!"

"WELL THEN GET THE BATTERING RAM! MOVE! NOW!" Fielding screamed, and moved over to the desk. "Officer, give me the phone!"

"Sir…the phones are dead too." The rookie desk clerk replied.

"GOD DAMNIT! The bastard must have been sitting in there planning this for hours! DOES ANYONE HAVE A CELL PHONE!?!?!?" Fielding yelled, swinging his arms and accidentally knocking over one of the thin metal spike things that some people stick messages on. "OW!"

"Sorry Lieutenant." The desk clerk said, retrieving the fallen message holder.

"That's ok kid, my fault. What are those anyway? Are they important?" Fielding said, abruptly switching gears, perhaps to provide a slight respite from the lunacy around him as the LCPD fought to get out of their own building.

"Nothing really sir. The only real thing of notice is some woman who keeps calling. Been calling since 3 o'clock, says her son was supposed to come back and didn't and she's afraid something happened to him. I keep telling her a person has to be missing for 24 hours before we can file a report, but she won't stop calling. She's scared sick, and if I may so, I think she's not the most mentally stable person."

"Mothers. Well fine, we'll probably have to deal with her. Maybe after this, if I remember! What was her name?"

"Miranda Garigen."

* * *

The noise rang through the room.

But not a gunshot. No. What interrupted the silence just before Savior would have possibly been shot was a loud noise that came from OUTSIDE the room, and outside the house. The two teenagers jerked up at the noise, and the man behind the curtain did likewise. Only the distraction of the two teenagers kept him from being seen.

"What the hell was that?" Savior said.

"Was that a bomb?"

"Why would we be being bombed? God damnit!" Savior said, running out of the room, Terra following. The gunman stepped out from behind the curtain a few seconds later and breathed a sigh of relief.

Beast Boy had been flying around the rear of the house when the blast had lit up the night to his right, and he himself had been startled, rearing up and squawking much like the hawk would have (though he was actually an owl, but he had just BEEN a hawk and…moving on…).

"What the hell?" he said, flying over to the edge of Pierce's property.

Yes, he could see it. There was a fire…over at the chemical plants?

"What the hell was that?" Pierce was yelling, as Scalpel strained to see. He'd also caught the blast out of the corner of his eye, and was now at the far corner of the room so he could look at the chemical plants at the proper angle.

"I think someone just attacked those chemical plants." Scalpel said.

"They did?" Pierce said, looking genuinely confused, and then Savior and Terra burst through the door.

"Scalpel, what was that?"

"From what I can see it was some kind of…"

And then a small form smashed through the window, a little green ridged ball that hit the ground and rolled for a bit, before Beast Boy unfurled from his armadillo form and returned to normal, as Scalpel backed away from the falling glass.

"Hey! Those are expensive!" Pierce yelled.

"Cram it! Guys, I think someone just bombed or otherwise blew up the chemical factories, or at least part of them." Beast Boy said.

"Really? Shit!" Savior cursed. Could they have been wrong all along? Was the Pierce warning a feint? Or was this a feint?

"Pierce, are there any chemicals in that factories that could cause serious problems?"

"What?"

"IS THERE ANYTHING THAT EXPLOSIONS WILL TURN INTO A KILLER FLESH EATING CLOUD OR SOMETHING!!!!!!!" Savior yelled.

"How should I know?" Pierce snapped.

"Right, of course…ok…Beast Boy, Terra, go to the factories. If you see anything coming out of the damaged area, DON'T APPROACH! If not, check to see what was damaged. Scalpel, you stay with me. If this is an attempt to get us to leave, it's not going to work. If Cauterize wants Pierce, he's going to have to work for it. Go! Quickly!"

Terra and Beast Boy did so, as a rock came flying through the same window Beast Boy had gone through, smashing the surviving part to bits and drawing another protest from Pierce as they flew off on it.

"Scalpel, watch the window! I'll take the door!" Savior said.

"What about my men?" Pierce asked.

"If they have any brains at all, they'll know what to do." Savior said.

* * *

The chemical factories owned by Shawkcorktenningwillis Inc were a pretty depressing place, with dull colors and a large wall build around the perimeter that made the place seem like a prison. Maybe it was due to the fact that part of the stretches of lovely beach that Light City had was just behind its back walls and they didn't want the workers running off to frolic in the surf.

It didn't take Beast Boy and Terra long to find the source of the explosion, and the fact that there were men running around it pretty much cleared up the worry of toxic chemical smoke.

The fire had gone out by now, just leaving a smoking pile of rubble next to some battered pieces of heavy machinery that had been barraged by shrapnel. The two landed next to a man with white hair and a very large mustache, nearly giving him a heart attack.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"It's ok! We're here to help!"

"What in the good lord's name are YOU?" Mustache asked.

"People who can help. What just happened?"

"Not sure…but I think someone just blew up our old smokestack!"

"Is that bad?"

"Well…no!"

"What? Why?" Terra asked.

"You see that?" Mustache said, pointing at the battered heavy machinery. "We just used ol' Essie to pull out the old one and replace it! Old one kept getting blocked up! I don't know WHY someone would want to blow it up, we were going to demolish it anyway!"

"…..He's right, that does make no sense." Beast Boy said.

"Savior?"

"Yep." Beast Boy said in mutual consent of having their leader puzzle out the question, as the old communicator came out again.

* * *

"They blew up an old SMOKESTACK?" Savior said.

"Come to think of it, the blast did look like it came from the back of the factory. Which makes no sense, there's nothing vital back there to damage." Pierce remarked, looking out his windows at the scene in the distance.

"I thought you didn't know anything." Scalpel said. Pierce gave him a glare. Scalpel glared back.

"Well ok, WHATEVER reason that place was blown up, there might be other bombs. Look for them."

"How do we know Cauterize didn't just run through the damn thing?"

"Too much ommpph. That was an actual explosive being used. If there aren't any toxic fumes Beast Boy, then I wanted you to approach the rubble…"

"Uh…ok…" Beast Boy said, walking up to the smoking, ruined stone wreckage.

"Press a button on the side of your communicator…no, the green one…" Savior said.

And then he felt it. What felt like a brief bit of air…

Savior threw the communicator away and threw out the Shimmer, lashing several lines across the room…

Only to find nothing there.

"What's wrong?" Scalpel asked.

"Wind. How's Pierce?"

"I'm FINE!" Pierce snapped from the chair he was sitting in again. "HEY! What are you doing!" he yelled as Scalpel leaned over and began prodding at him.

"Making sure everything is still attached. Arms…legs…torso…" Scalpel said, and then thudded Pierce lightly on his forehead.

"OW!"

"Cranium. Looks like he's still alive Savior. Must have just been normal wind…"

"I wish…" Savior muttered, picking up his communicator. "Sorry, bit of paranoia there."

"I gathered. Something popped out of the communicator."

"Yes, I want you to find a small pierce of stone, very small, from the rubble, and put that in the extension, and then push it back in."

"Ok…doing so…what's this going to do?"

"It's going to scan for traces of whatever explosive was used to do this and then turn itself into a tracker of said explosive, which will HOPEFULLY allow you to search for any other bombs. Unless a different kind of explosive was used in each ONE, but even THAT I find doubtful…"

"The T-Communicator can DO that?"

"It can do all SORTS of things. Didn't you ever read the manual?" Savior asked.

Silence.

"Right, dumb question. Anyway, what does it say?"

"Nothing yet…wait, it says analyzed. Now what do I do?"

"Scan it around."

At the chemical plant, Beast Boy did so.

"It's not doing anything."

"If it works properly, when it starts tracing the explosive it will start beeping."

"Are you sure…I would think…" Beast Boy said as he slowly spun around.

And then it started beeping.

"It's working." He said.

"Ok, check around and see if it beeps any other way."

Beast Boy did so.

"No. Just one way."

"Good. That means just one more bomb. Follow it."

"All right." Beast Boy said as he followed the beeping, Terra and Mustache trailing behind him. "What do I do when I do find it?"

"Well we'll…"

And then a cell phone started ringing.

Savior looked up. It wasn't his phone…was Scalpel carrying a cell…

Then his eyes slid onto Stephen Pierce, who looked rather surprised himself.

"Man, you REALLY are a sneaky bastard…"

"NO! I don't have a phone!" Pierce yelled.

"Oh, so you're just ringing?"

"I don't have a phone! I don't know what this is!" Pierce said, standing up and hunting for whatever was ringing.

"Man, you really are…" Savior said, and trailed off. "Oh no."

"What Savior?" Scalpel asked.

"It wasn't a normal gust of wind."

Pierce had finally located the ringing and removed it to reveal a small cell phone.

"WAIT!" Savior said.

"What?" he asked.

"If that's not your phone…where do you think it came from?"

Pierce looked at Savior, and then a look of horror came over his face. The cell phone continued to ring.

"Let me answer it." Savior said, throwing out the Shimmer and grabbing the phone. He encased it in a bubble and then carefully opened it.

It didn't explode, so Savior, for lack of anything better to do, handed it back to Stephen Pierce.

"…..Hello?" he said.

"Good evening Mr. Pierce." Said Cauterize.

* * *

"The beeping gets louder this way. I think the other bomb is in that building." Beast Boy said.

"What's in that place?" Terra asked Mustache.

"Nothing! A bunch of old tools! I don't know why anyone would want to blow THAT up!"

"Why indeed. Ok buddy, you may wanna clear out. Just in case." Beast Boy said. Mustache didn't need another warning: he promptly skedaddled.

Beast Boy followed the beeping communicator, focused on the task and not noticing that Savior had stopped speaking to him.

Terra by his side, Beast Boy opened the door, flicked on the overhead light and followed the beeps. It got louder and louder until it became a numbing buzz, which ended with him in a corner with a few wooden boxes covered by a tarp.

"Ok…" Beast Boy said, as he closed the communicator, and then he grabbed the tarp and carefully lifted it off.

The bomb was a small metal box with a timer in the center. It didn't appear to be hooked up to anything, so Beast Boy assumed that whatever explosive it had was in the box. The timer said 25:00.

"Whew. Good job BB! You found it!" Terra said.

"Great, now what do we do with it?"

"Well…it doesn't seem to be attached to anything, maybe we can just…" Terra said as she walked over and reached out. Beast Boy's eyes widened.

"TERRA, NO!"

Too late: Terra had already grasped the sides and lifted the bomb up.

A rapid beeping from the bomb told Terra that she had messed up. And the intense stickiness she was suddenly feeling confirmed that yes, she had really messed up.

"Ah! Terra!" Beast Boy said. "Put it down!"

Terra tried…and found she couldn't move her hands.

"AH! THERE'S GLUE ON IT!"

"Glue?"

"My hands are stuck to the bomb!"

"Well take off your gloves!"

"I can't! The glue soaked right through them! It's stuck tight!"

"Ah man, why is it always me and bombs?" Beast Boy said. "Well ok Terra don't panic, the timer hasn't started yet and even if it does you still have 25 minutes…

The 2 in the 25:00 suddenly became a 1.

"Er, fifteen minutes?"

The 1 suddenly became a zero.

"AH! FIVE MINUTES!"

And then it became…something. It looked like 6h:00.

"Six H minutes?" Beast Boy said in confusion.

And then Terra twisted her hands and arms and turned the bomb upside down.

00:48.

"AH! The bomb was upside down! It wasn't set for twenty five minutes, it was set for fifty-two seconds!" Terra said. "Beast Boy, help!" She yelled as she began to thrash, trying to get the bomb off her hands. But the glue held tight.

"Terra!" he yelled, reaching for her hands.

"Don't touch it you'll get stuck too!" Terra said, pulling the bomb away from her. "Gar, help me!"

"But…I…Terra…" he said.

"Gar, please. I don't want to die…" Terra whispered, tears leaking from her eyes.

Beast Boy stared at her, waiting for an answer, a solution, a miracle…

But none came.

Like an event in his past, the timer continued to tick down.

And chances are, this time there was a real explosive awaiting.

00:41…00:40…00:39…


	7. Cut And Run

Part 7: Cut And Run

"Why call me?" Pierce said.

Savior had to admit, the abrupt switch in tactics was a tad startling. Maybe it would have been more so if he wasn't currently waving Shimmer lines all over the room, trying to see if there was anyone hiding in the corners or using some Speed Force trick to stay out of sight until Pierce lost his mind, or head, or something similarly messy. Scalpel was standing right next to Pierce, his glaive at the ready, as Pierce spoke on the phone with the vigilante that meant to kill him.

Considering how Pierce had treated the police, as well as the Titans, Savior had expected more ranting and raving. But maybe Pierce knew that that wouldn't help him or make him feel better, so he had adapted a different tact.

"Why not?" said Cauterize on the other end. Scalpel could hear him, though Savior couldn't, for various reasons.

"You didn't speak with Tercero and Bialas."

"Why speak with them? They were pawns. You're the chessmaster here Pierce. So why not speak with you?"

"For what reason? To ask me why I did what I supposedly did?"

"Ah Mr. Pierce, ever the spinmaster as well. Even now, with it all dangling by a thread, you refuse to admit why you're hanging there. That _Wag The Dog_ movie should have been about you."

"This is pointless, you know. Nothing will change." Pierce suddenly said. "I never had anything to do with this city's decline. Murdering me won't stop or vary its course."

"Ah no Mr. Pierce. That's just what you think. Men like you have a strange attitude towards change. They seek it out, yet say they don't want it. They see it happen, yet deny it does. They set it in motion, yet claim they are standing still. Do you honestly expect me to believe that this city would be worse off with you still around?"

"If I hadn't been around, this city would have disintegrated. All it knew was tourism. When that stopped, these chickens had their heads cut right off. They didn't have a clue how to survive without it. You claim I'm ruining this city, but the fact remains that this city would have long been ruined if I HADN'T shown up."

"I don't think there's anyone in here." Savior whispered. Not like it mattered: Cauterize could be anywhere, he'd be in that room when he needed to be. He'd already been in it long enough to plant a cell phone on Pierce's person.

"You think this city is better off WITH you?" Cauterize was saying.

"Yes. Think of me what you will, child, but with me around, at least some people are happy."

"Yeah. All the WRONG people."

"That is not unique to this city boy."

"Maybe not. Maybe a lot of modern life is similarly unbalanced. But this isn't about an unevenness Pierce. This is about a NONEXISTENCE. You took life's general hardship and unfairness and made it go from painful to unbearable. You're right, maybe when this city lost its status as a premier tourist resort that was its death knell, but there have been more then a few cases of people surviving what was supposed to be their irreversible end. But you didn't come into that Pierce. What you did was walk into a patient on his sickbed and inject a massive dose of poison into its veins."

"And what are you? The cure?"

"No. I'm the scalpel."

Nigel arched an eyebrow at that.

"Many will make arguments for my methods. But none of them understand. They are taking their reality and projecting it onto me. They cannot understand what it is like to live like this, looking at the slow, insidious rot eating everything you knew and loved away, bit by bit. Rot that could be stopped except the medicines and treatments are being withheld because it is beneficial to a chosen few. Is this unique? Maybe not. But this time, things aren't going to go this way."

"Because of you? You're some miracle cure?"

"No, I'm the last ditch effort to save what's left. The laws that some people hold in so high regard cannot aid this city. Those teenagers who think they can help through their meddling and foolish whimsies on life and living can't help. The foot is caught, the trap is firm, and the hunter is approaching. So fate has seen to it that this city produced me. In a land of false invulnerability, I am someone who is truly untouchable. In a land where morals hold no water, I am the one who shall build the new dam. I will make this a nice town again Pierce. I am not just sacrificing all of the foulness and corruption you and your ilk have brought to Light City on the alter. I am also sacrificing a great deal of myself. But I will survive the sacrifice. You, on the other hand…"

And suddenly Pierce began beeping again. But this wasn't a phone ring. This was something a lot faster…and a lot more menacing.

Pierce's and Savior's eyes went as wide as saucers, Pierce at the realization that Cauterize hadn't just been a messenger when he had zipped into the room and Savior at the realization that yes Virginia, Cauterize could and would change his _modus operandi._

"It is truly a sad thing when a city is so dirty the only thing that will wash it clean is blood. It is even a sadder thing when one must become like me to do something like this. But the saddest thing of all, Mr. Pierce, is that it would be far far worse then if I HADN'T done this. So let me leave you with the proper farewell for what you have wrought and for what has had to come for the sake of saving it. 'For the grief we have harvested, for the evil you have sown, jackals will forever call you coward, and vultures refuse your bones.'"

And the line went dead.

* * *

Once, an eternity ago, Beast Boy had been looking for a lost companion and inadvertently walked into hell for thirty minutes. That hell had been him triggering a trap his comrade was connected to, a bomb, or so it had seemed. Circumstances had rigged it so that only HE could disarm the bomb: the best his comrades could do was help at a distance. And help they had, but the weight of the world was still mostly on Beast Boy, as he feverishly worked in a subject that he barely comprehended.

In the end, he had failed, and his ally would have been dead now had it not been for two things: a last minute epiphany that had nothing to do with explosives, and the fact that in the end there WERE no explosives. The so-called bomb trap had been a bluff to tie up him and his comrades.

It had been one of the worse experiences in his life.

And life had apparently decided that once wasn't enough.

Except this time there was explosives.

And instead of 30 minutes he had 30 seconds (left).

And the bomb was glued to the woman he had been trying to admit he dearly liked and maybe even loved for years.

And he had no idea how to save her. For the past fifteen seconds he had changed into several animal forms and, without actually touching the bomb so that HE didn't get stuck to it, tried to pry her gloves off, even if it took a layer of skin with them (skin, after all, grew back). But it was no good: the glue Cauterize had chosen was extremely potent stuff, and the gloves just weren't coming off.

"Beast Boy…" Terra said, and a dagger of pure arctic ice stabbed into Beast Boy's heart. He knew from the tone what was coming. The same thing had happened before. Terra was going to tell him to leave so that he wouldn't die too. The last time, he had started to leave, and while doing so that led to his epiphany, it had hurt and shamed him terribly nonetheless.

"I'm not leaving you!" Beast Boy growled from his gorilla form, as he redoubled his efforts. But the effort was futile: the forms that had the dexterity didn't have the strength, and the forms that had the strength didn't have the dexterity. The only way they were going to get the bomb off was if he yanked Terra's hands off, and he couldn't bring himself to do that.

"But…"

"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!" Beast Boy roared as he TRIPLED his efforts. But it just wasn't working.

And the timer was hitting twenty.

Terra sniffed, her pain and fear starting to give way to a fatalistic attitude. She had, in some part of her, known that this would be her end someday. People like her never died peacefully in bed. They died in the dirt, they died on some god-forsaken rock, they died by the terrible, cruel, foul ways…

Foul…

Something occurred to Terra: humans sniffed when they were sad, but they were still using the nose, which was designed to smell. And she had noticed something…

She sniffed again…

Ugh, something stank…something…familiar…

And it came back to here, where she had smelled this before. The glue. She'd smelled this glue before.

"GAR!" she yelled. "Salt water! We need salt water!"

"For the glue?" he said, turning human again. The timer was at eighteen seconds.

"Yes!"

"The ocean!"

Terra was about to reach out for a rock when Beast Boy suddenly grabbed her arms and slung them over his neck.

"Gar!"

"I'll get you there!" he yelled.

"But…"

"If you go, I GO!" Beast Boy yelled as he turned into a cheetah, Terra slung awkwardly on his back, and took off. He skidded out the door, ran out from the door, turned around, and started sprinting for the back wall. Terra bounced and thrashed on his back, cheetahs not really meant to be ridden, and it hurt him, but Beast Boy ignored the pain, as he shifted his body ever so slightly to another cat species: the leopard. Perhaps someone with less experience in such abilities would have chosen a kangaroo, but Garfield Logan had been Beast Boy for most of his life now, and he knew the animal kingdom inside and out and backwards and forwards.

Including the fact that a leopard could actually jump higher then a kangaroo.

But that was by itself. Leopards didn't carry passengers. That would be up to Beast Boy, as using the momentum he had gathered as a cheetah, he seized every bit of power his leg muscles could produce and launched himself upward.

It seemed to be in slow motion, as Beast Boy flew up, Terra on his back, watching the stones as they went up and up seemingly forever…and then the brief blue glimpse beyond as Beast Boy began to crest, but the wall was too high, he wasn't going to make it…

Before the wall bricks exploded away from him, as Terra reached out with a basic command: GO! And they did, as Beast Boy cleared the wall.

His legs bent under him on the landing, and he felt something twist in a way that shouldn't, but he ignored that, turning back into a cheetah and running, ignoring his pain, ignoring his limitations, ignoring the so called inevitable as he sprinted towards the distant waters…

10…

9…

* * *

Stephen Pierce didn't have a timer. He didn't even know where the bomb had been placed on his person. All he knew that he was beeping and that was the death knell he was going to get…

If he didn't have some blessing from some dark god, as Savior leapt at the man, the Shimmer lashing out, as Savior looked back through the day, considering where Cauterize might plant a bomb that wouldn't be noticed immediately, and where on Pierce's person it would be, as Scalpel stepped back, an unseen communication going between the two, as the Shimmer ripped into Pierce's jacket…

And pulled out his special pen case, the one with his "magic pen" that he held in such high esteem for some reason, the pen case that was now frantically beeping, as Scalpel turned and hurled his glaive at the window behind him, the blade smashing the whole glass frame, the shards of crystal falling as Savior leapt through the empty hole, propelled by other Shimmer strands, even as he reared back his arm and hurled the pen case into the sky, even as he landed awkwardly on the ground and rolled, twisting his ankle slightly in a mirror injury of what Beast Boy had suffered, even as the pen case flew up into the sky…

And exploded. Savior felt the heat on his head and the slight wave of force as the pen case blew up in the sky, utterly obliterated in the fireball that plumed into life and vanished almost as quickly.

"Savior? You alright?" Scalpel was calling from the window, and Savior realized he had been holding his breath. He let it out, as a random thought occurred: _Nigel must have broken the window just in case the Shimmer got cut breaking it itself, the pain could have seized me up and that could have been bad for us, I should retrieve his glaive for him…_

Scalpel was at the broken window, looking down on the lawn where, a few dozen feet away, Cauterize's previous warning had been burned the previous night, and hence he wasn't looking at Stephen Pierce as he turned away, suddenly gasping for air, the suddenness of it all overwhelming any and all preparations and experience, as the calm façade of Stephen Pierce, the lord and master front of the ruler of Light City, and the rage of the subhuman were washed away by the panic and relief of the animal that has just had a brush with death, as that relief mixed with human vices and activated, as Stephen Pierce suddenly wanted a drink more then he had ever wanted anything in his life, as he staggered over to the cabinet…

* * *

6…

5…

The ocean was miles away. Even Cauterize could not reach it in time. It was twice the length and breadth of the universe combined, it was beyond all his abilities and desires, it was mocking him, laughing at him, telling him that this was the end, it was…sloshing under his feet, around him…

4…

Beast Boy stopped abruptly, almost flinging Terra face first into the salty water, but she was ready as she somehow avoided getting her head buried in wet sand as she thrust her hands under the liquid, even as she saw the timer and she knew that there was too much glue it would never be in time and **_3_** she was going to die death had finally caught up to her and she'd never be able to say what had to be said she'd been **_2_** a fool and a silly girl and now life was going to punish her for it because in the end we all had to atone for our sins…

**_1._**

* * *

And Pierce flung open his liquor cabinet.

He didn't find his bottles, or his shot glasses, or anything involving alcohol at all. Instead he found a mess of wires and other parts, sitting on top of several large bricks of what looked like play-doh, and even as his mind comprehended that what he had found wasn't what he had expected a small part of the device flipped over, revealing a black crystal screen that began to flash, not with numbers but with a word.

**Gotcha. Gotcha. Gotcha. Gotcha Gotcha _Gotcha Gotcha GOTCHA…_**

Pierce made a small noise in his throat, a tiny whimper that didn't benefit the lord and master of all he surveyed, a noise that caught Scalpel's attention as he turned around…

And the bomb exploded, vaporizing Stephen Pierce from the face of the earth as the explosives detonated. Scalpel screamed in surprise as the flames flowed out and consumed his being as well.

All the windows exploded outward in a massive blast of power and heat, throwing Savior backwards from the shockwave even as he made his own scream, even as the three backup bombs that had been planted detonated. Fire exploded down hallways and through doors and into rooms, catching men and women and removing them from existence before they could even begin to understand what had happened as Stephen Pierce's house exploded in a gigantic fireball, lighting up the night like the moon that had long since been blinded.

* * *

And the bomb exploded in the sky above the beach.

For a second, there was a pause, the only sound the rushing surf, as Terra looked up, her arms still up and outstretched from the rock she had summoned from under the sands as she had felt the glue giving, the rock she had forced up and under the device, shoving it upward, the glue weakened from the salt water as the rock shoved up, finally exerting enough force to tear the death machine right off Terra's hands and into the air, getting just enough distance so the two Titans in the water escaped getting caught in the area effect.

And then, much like a few pieces of metal and other bits, Terra finally came down from the adrenaline charged state of mind she had been in. Death had passed her by once more.

She heard sudden whooping gasps, and turned her head. Beast Boy was back to his human form and sitting down, drawing in air to replace all the oxygen his body had exhausted in its successful attempt to make the water, as said water slid and sloshed around him…

"Oh man…oh man…never again…please…never again…" Beast Boy said. "Dude…I don't know why you do this to me…but it's clear that…if you want to keep doing it…I deserve a medal…or something…"

Terra leapt into Beast Boy's arms, pushing him down onto the sand as she crushed her mouth against his, celebrating life and celebrating all she had in it, and that was going to be Gar Logan.

"Mpphmmmmmmmpphhh..mmm…" Beast Boy said at the surprise of it, a surprise that quickly became a mirror of Terra's own realization.

The two lay there, water rushing around them, as the gulf finally closed. Maybe if they were lucky, it would be forever.

But for now it was gloriously closed, as the two finally laid to rest years of wondering and questioning and worrying. The ultimate answer was it was even better then they had imagined.

After a while, Terra finally broke it.

"That took a while." Beast Boy said.

"Let's make up for lost time." Terra replied, and kissed him again. Water rushed around the two once more.

Terra broke it again.

"If we didn't have a very pressing mission right about now, I'd tear your clothes off with my teeth." She said. Beast Boy's eyes widened as she took one hand from the side of his head and pressed it on the sand. With a rumble, a large rock worked its way up and under the two, lifting them into the air.

"How about later?" Beast Boy said.

"It's a date."

* * *

While Beast Boy and Terra had finally managed to find each other, Savior was having no such joy.

"No………!!!!!!!!!" Savior wailed from where he lay, on his knees, knuckles to the dirt as a few final explosions shook what was left of Stephen Pierce's empire. His plan to assassinate the Semi-Titans had backfired big time: in bringing all his men back to his house for the attempt he had only caused their sudden and violent demises.

But Savior didn't care about Pierce or his men. He had tried and he had failed. But in the process he had lost...

"SCALPEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Savior screamed at the flaming ruin, even as belated chunks of wood and other fiery junk landed on the ground around him. "SCALPEL!!!!!!!!!"

There was no answer save the crackle of the fire and the heat of said.

"DAMMIT!" Savior cursed, pounding the ground. "DAMNIT! FUCK! DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He lowered his head to the ground, taking the rapid deep breaths that the angry bereaved take, his eyes tightly clenched shut. He had committed the worst sin an impromptu leader could: he had lost a teammate

"No…" he moaned, as if denial could turn back time, like so many before Savior had willed and wished and commanded and raged against when it failed. "No, no, no, no, no…"

And then he was aware of the presence. He knew who it was.

Savior looked up to see Cauterize standing there, arms crossed, head cocked, looking at the flaming devastation. The helmet again concealed his face, but his mouth told enough as he looked on with reserved satisfaction. Then he turned towards Savior, who snorted.

"Well. Are you happy? ARE YOU?" Savior yelled.

"I did what had to be done." Cauterize replied.

"YOU MAY HAVE JUST KILLED ONE OF MY TEAMMATES!"

A loud explosion rocked the sky off in the distance. Savior looked at it in sudden shock: Cauterize just glanced behind him in the way of those who knew what had happened and were just paying lip service to the fact.

"I may have just killed ALL of your teammates." Cauterize said calmly. "Go ahead and hate me if you wish. They, and you, brought this on themselves."

"You twisted psycho fuck…" Savior said, getting up, his knuckles white under his gloves. "You delusional murdering…"

"Are you so angry at what you have lost, or because you recognize what I have done and realize that getting involved carries a heavy price?" Cauterize said.

"Fuck you, you bastard."

"No, fuck YOU, YOU bastard." Cauterize said. "Fuck you for coming in here with your self-righteousness and your so called just causes after ignoring us for years. Fuck you for claiming you stand for peace and justice and then just delving it out to a select few while ignoring the cries of those who dearly needed it. And fuck you for looking upon myself as the bad guy. I was just the catalyst. You, with your inaction, caused this as much as Stephen Pierce."

"WE ARE NOT GODS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Savior bellowed. "WE CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH! WE CAN ONLY FIGHT SO HARD WHILE TRYING TO STAVE OFF THE DECAY YOU HAVE SO WILLINGLY EMBRACED! HOW DARE YOU JUDGE US!"

"Quid pro quo." Cauterize said. "Hello kettle, this is pot calling. You're black!"

Savior said nothing, his rage seething from him, coming off him in waves. Cauterize didn't seem affected.

"What's wrong? Run out of judgments? Or are you seeing the truth in that I had no other choice?"

"There's always another choice."

"Oh, how little you know." Cauterize said. "In your city perhaps, there's choice. In cities like these…there's me."

"You're insane."

"How many times have you hid behind that decision? How many times have you taken what was necessary and called it madness?"

"You think you're the first one to hold those kinds of thoughts? I've fought at least half a dozen with the same mindset. None of them were right either."

"Things change." Cauterize said, as if he were stating the weather. His tone offended Savior: so calm and certain, an adult humoring a child, a scientist trying to explain the Earth is round while his peers say it is really built on the backs of various giant animals.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I am the last survivor of a dying planet! I have come to rob all the women, and rape all the men, and learn to do the Peppermint Twist!" Cauterize yelled, and then he actually began to do a silly little dance for a few seconds. "That is madness. Don't confuse it with what had to be done."

"Sickness comes it all forms."

"There is a fine line between sickness and necessity." Cauterize said, as he withdrew one of his blades. "Razor sharp, in fact."

"I won't let you get away with this."

"I'm sure you won't. You can't. Just like you couldn't save this city. That was my job and my task. It is now done, unless you try and undo it. Haven't you lost enough?"

"FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Savior roared, leaping at Cauterize.

Cauterize's fist planted itself in Savior's stomach, sending all the air shooting out of him like a bullet, and even as his body reacted to the blow Cauterize zipped around him and slammed Savior into the ground with a sledgehammer blow to his back. No sooner had he impacted the ground then Cauterize zipped over a bit more and stomped on the back of Savior's head. Seventeen times. Savior spasmed and then was still.

"Still haven't learned to dance, I see." Cauterize said. "Maybe this will teach you the cost of failure and the price of inexorableness."

And Cauterize walked away, twirling his blade in his right hand…

Until Savior's arms reared up and then thudded back into the ground, his fingers digging deep into the dirt. Cauterize stopped, and then turned around as Savior pushed himself back up, getting to his feet. His face was an absolute mess, and his jaw looked funny.

The reason why became clear as twin Shimmer strands emerged from Savior's shoulders, clamped onto the hinge of bone, and SNAPPED it back into place, fixing the dislocation, even thought it clearly hurt Savior a great deal. The strands then flowed up, seized Savior's broken nose, and snapped that back into place as well, causing a fresh stream of blood to fountain from the nose and run down Savior's face. He moved his jaw around, wincing a tad, to see if it worked, and then his bright white teeth became a bit duller as the Shimmer shields he had snapped over them were reabsorbed into his body. Savior hated going to the dentist, so he had trained his Shimmer to protect his teeth. And it paid off: if he hadn't had them shielded he would now have a mouthful of broken enamel and screaming nerves.

"I know the price of inexorableness. It's why I won't stop until you've paid for your crimes, or until I'm dead." Savior said, as he extended his right arm at a severe angle towards the ground. The Shimmer began flowing out, forming into a sword. Savior focused on the shape, forcing more and more material into the weapon. Though the Shimmer was vulnerable to blades, Savior had trained himself enough that he could form "super-strands" that were able to handle being sliced. The problem is that forming anything large with that kind of protection was impossible…but Savior could easily form a small personal weapon.

Cauterize let out a breath through his nostrils, making the noise of those who partly can't believe what they're seeing and partly can believe and are greatly irritated by it.

"You don't really think you'll win, do you?" he asked, the fire reflecting off his helmet.

"Things change."

Cauterize was in front of him, his blade slashing down, and Savior was bringing up his Shimmer-blade…and blocking it.

His mouth wasn't the greatest indication, but Savior could still draw a vague idea: that surprised him.

Savior shoved Cauterize away and slashed at him, but Cauterize was gone, at Savior's side, swinging for his head, except the Shimmer blade was now extending from Savior's shoulder, blocking the deadly slash (once the "Super-Strand" was formed, Savior didn't need to go through the rigmarole of reforming it elsewhere on his body: he could just MOVE it where it was needed), as Savior twisted and shoved Cauterize away again, the sword vanishing from his shoulder and back in his hand as he stabbed at Cauterize, but Cauterize dodged aside and slashed again. The blades met, and then Cauterize punched Savior on the side of his head. Savior staggered and fell, and Cauterize swooped in for another fatal slash, except Savior was swinging his leg up, the blade extending from his foot now, blocking and knocking Cauterize askew due to the bizarre fighting style.

"What's wrong? Slowing down?" Savior asked. "Getting tired?"

Cauterize smirked.

And then Savior flew backwards, fired by a punch he hadn't seen. He didn't see the blow that came after that as Cauterize zapped past him and punched him again, sending him back the way he came, and then again, and again, and again, as Savior became a ping pong ball. After seven blows Cauterize stopped, letting Savior hit the ground.

"Exhaustion…is something I can live with…" Cauterize said, taking deep breaths. "Oh, and by the way…"

Savior's jacket suddenly tore open at the T patches on his shoulders. Twin slices, done so quickly Savior didn't even see Cauterize move.

"I'm just being fair." He said, and attacked again.

* * *

In front of what had once been the domain of Stephen Pierce, a fountain runs quietly, water flowing up from the center and out into a smaller bowl below it, which flowed into the much larger base, which was always immaculately clean. No tossed coins in this fountain.

There was something in it though, as with a gasp Scalpel emerged from the waters, remembering the heat as the fire engulfed him, remembering the slap as he flew out the window and down, landing in the water. He'd escaped death, though he didn't feel like celebrating: fire needed to be on someone for about three seconds before it started doing damage. Due to the "pitch" of his trip into the fountain, Scalpel estimated he'd been aflame for about five.

But he could live with that. It was actually water that his species LOATHED: They were very heavy and couldn't swim. Had Scalpel been a normal Blacktrinian, falling into any water would have made him panic. But Scalpel had been on earth long enough to know that when you hit stone half a second after hitting water, the only way you're going to drown is if you're unconscious or if someone is holding you under. Neither was the case, so Scalpel, after being under for about two seconds, shoved himself up.

His hat was gone, probably consumed by the flame. And as he stood up, the strain of water, combined with the holes burned in his clothes, Scalpel's cape fell off, yanking most of his jacket with it.

"I'm going to feel THAT in the morning…" he muttered as he flexed to make sure all his muscles were working. That act caused his badly burned shirt to rip open even more, to the point where it was hanging on his body. Scalpel snorted in annoyance and yanked the ruined and soaked clothes off his frame, revealing a muscular chest covered with several scars, some from bullets, others from blades, all a reminder of the life he had chosen. Rather disturbing…or at least some people thought so. At least his pants had stayed together enough to stay on. And the only thing he needed was folded up into the metal claws that all Blacktrinians had fused to their hands and lower forearms, and it was waterproof.

Scalpel could hear the sounds of battle, and he turned, his black eyes glimmering as he saw Savior and Cauterize fight in the distance. His eyes flicked down to the fountain base he had landed in, and then he took two steps over, reached down, and yanked his glaive from the liquid. He folded it up to make sure it was still working properly and then he snapped it out again, the fire gleaming on the blades.

"Ok Cauterize. Let's see what you can REALLY do."

* * *

Savior probably would have preferred if Cauterize wasn't showing what he could REALLY do, because at the moment that seemed to consist of planting his fist into Savior's gut, again, and this time so hard that it seemed to go all the way through him and bulge out his back, and Savior staggered back, holding his injured stomach.

"That could have had this on its end, you know." Cauterize said as he indicated his small sword to Savior. There was that tone again: like Savior was a small child being chastised by an adult for drawing on the walls. And wasn't this all about punishment in the end, anyway? Cauterize punished all the people responsible for the downfall of his city by killing them, and had punished the Titans by banging up their bodies and grinding their pride into the dust. And after that…?

It was that question that kept Savior from just keeling over right then and there. Instead, he seized the pain, shoved it into a small box, tossed the box on the pile he was accumulating, and charged at Cauterize, swinging his S.S.S.S (Shimmer Super Strand Sword) at the vigilante again.

Cauterize blocked it without effort.

And then his mouth opened slightly in surprise as the Shimmer strand erupted from the ground behind him and seized his shoulder, twin lines springing out and digging deep into the muscle, fired from the bottom of Savior's foot for while Cauterize was oh so fast he didn't have eyes on the back of his head.

And suddenly the Shimmer was tied around Savior, ending in a small bow on his chest, as Cauterize grimaced and touched the torn cloth where the Shimmer had managed to gain a brief hold. His fingers came away with a slight touch of blood.

The Shimmer was reabsorbed back into Savior as he swung the sword up.

"Ohhh, look. Someone's not so untouchable."

The bottle smashed over Savior's head, sending him stumbling back.

"Since you want to bring up Mr. Ness, I figured that would be an appropriate touch." Cauterize said, tossing the broken handle aside. Savior would have gotten the vague idea that Cauterize had actually run off to grab a bottle of beer and then returned to break it over Savior's head before he even realized he was gone…if Cauterize hadn't immediately planted his foot into Savior's throat and sent him tumbling across the lawn again. Savior came to a stop and lay there, gasping for air.

"You're dull. I'm bored." Cauterize said, walking up to Savior at normal speed. He'd save the quickness when he slashed, the final slash. "Ta for good."

The blade slashed down…

And the glaive intercepted it, the larger blade blocking the smaller one with a resounding CLANG!

"Can I cut in?"

Scalpel twisted his hand, whirled his body, and spun the glaive around as he tried to stab at Cauterize's head, but he dodged with a quick dash back. He looked perturbed, and then took a slow deep breath.

"Personally, I didn't think you were dead." Cauterize said.

"Oh really. That's nice." Scalpel replied, as Savior got up beside him. The Blacktrinian cracked his neck twice and then looked at Savior, who didn't respond with words: instead he brought his S4 back up.

Cauterize wiped at his mouth with the edge of his right hand and then tossed the blade clutched in it to his left, drawing the twin with his once again free right.

"Come one, come all." He said.

The two Titans leapt forward, swinging their blades, hoping if they couldn't out-duel Cauterize they could overpower him. It was a good move…if Cauterize hadn't been there only long enough to block the blows for the first half second they occurred before he was gone. Had he stayed, he probably would have been knocked back or down: instead the sudden slash-stop-slash result threw his two foes off balance. Cauterize rammed an elbow into Savior's ribs, sending him tumbling off again, and then zipped back to Scalpel, slashing at his face…

The glaive end was there first, blocking Cauterize's attack. This time, he was definitely surprised.

"Come on." Scalpel said, grinning fiercely.

A fury of sword slashes was blocked by a whirling glaive, and then Scalpel spun away and stabbed the glaive at Cauterize's head. The vigilante dodged aside, grabbed the shaft of Scalpel's weapon, and kicked in his powers as he started running, zapping around Scalpel while holding the glaive. Before Scalpel knew what had happened, he had been screwed into the ground chest deep.

Cauterize didn't immediately attack though: he had stopped, panting. It took him three seconds to catch his breath, and then he turned towards Scalpel…and Savior was leaping in, swinging down his S4. Cauterize blocked it, but the impact sent him staggering backwards and he nearly tripped and fell, which allowed Savior to pull Scalpel out of the ground. The two rushed Cauterize again, and the vigilante found himself on the defensive against Scalpel's masterful technique and Savior's Shimmer-assisted swordplay.

That lasted for about twelve seconds before Savior and Scalpel suddenly found their heads being slammed together. Savior once again reeled off as Cauterize reappeared a few feet away, again taking deep breaths.

"So, I guess constantly being in a Speed Force altered state is hazardous to your health."

Cauterize brought up both his blades to block Scalpel's overhead slash, and the impact nearly drove him to his knees. Scalpel slid his blades off the block and tried to jab Cauterize in the side, but Cauterize dodged back and slammed the glaive between his swords, trying to twist the weapon away from Scalpel. But Scalpel went with the move and "twisted" back, and the two fought for leverage…and Scalpel won, as he managed to get his glaive under Cauterize's right blade and exert enough leverage to shove the sword out of his hand and into the air. Cauterize stumbled back and Scalpel went for the kill spinning and slashing hard. Cauterize blocked, but the impact knocked the other blade from his hand, leaving the vigilante defenseless.

Kind of, as Scalpel went into a slashing frenzy and Cauterize kept reeling back, his arms and body blurring as he dodged all the attacks…

And then Shimmer lines wrapped around him from behind.

"You're becoming forgetful." Savior said, and it was clear Cauterize was tiring, as he couldn't run away before Savior picked him up or vibrate out of the grip before Savior hurled him across the lawn. The vigilante hit in and did awkward looking cartwheels as he landed, even as Savior and Scalpel kept the pressure on.

Cauterize finally stopped, rolled to his feet, and looked up, his teeth clenched.

"THIS MEANS NOTHING!" he roared, as he thrust out his right arm and began to spin it, immediately whipping up a vortex of wind that caught the two Titans, and before they could properly defend they were swept off their feet. Cauterize yanked them up and cut the tornado and the two fell. Savior, seeing that he had no choice, dissolved the S4and fired out lines to catch Scalpel and himself…

And Cauterize's blade came slicing through them. Pain exploded through Savior's being and he forgot everything in it. This allowed Cauterize to catch him as he fell, as poor Scalpel thudded into the ground nearby, and a line of flame erupted across the front yard of the late Stephen Pierce as Cauterize rammed the hero right into the flaming wreckage of the house and dashed back out as it collapsed, burying Savior alive. Having picked his swords up again, he turned as Scalpel got back to his feet.

His glaive was suddenly flying at him, thrown by Cauterize, but this wasn't an attack. It was a toss, and Scalpel caught it and spun, assuming the third Blacktrinian combat position.

"All right. Let's see who's the phony tough and who's the crazy brave." Scalpel said.

"………What?" Cauterized replied.

Scalpel lowered the glaive as he gestured towards Cauterize with his claws.

"Bring it, bitch!"

The blades crashed together as Cauterize blazed forward and Scalpel got the glaive back up, the vigilante trying to overcome Scalpel's position, his crossed swords shoving against the main blade of Scalpel's weapon.

"Is this brought enough?" Cauterize hissed.

"My SISTER could gut you from this." Scalpel shot back, and slid his weapon down, whirled, and stabbed…and then Cauterize's foot slammed into his neck, cutting off his air.

"Why don't you get HER to come fight then?" Cauterize snapped, as he twirled his swords and slashed at Scalpel's head.

Scalpel caught the sword with his hand.

"Please. Why bother her with amateurs?"

Cauterize stabbed his other sword at Scalpel's chest, but the alien twisted away, bringing up his glaive and slashing it at Cauterize's head, but the vigilante was down, kneeling and stabbing at Scalpel's gut, but Scalpel was still one step ahead and already flipping over the lowered vigilante, stabbing his glaive into the ground behind him. As Cauterize whirled for a roundhouse slash, Scalpel shifted up, leapt up in a short vertical leap, and balanced in a handstand on the top of the bladed weapon, Cauterize's sword thunking against it's heavily armored shaft, and then like a stripper from hell, he spun down and out, slashing out his foot and catching Cauterize across his chest, sending him flying backwards with a mewling cry of surprise.

Scalpel landed on his feet and yanked his glaive up, giving it a twirl as Cauterize sat up from his position and put his hand to the cut on his chest. Even with the mask, Scalpel could tell he was shocked.

"You should have spent more time developing actual blade techniques and not so much time developing speed techniques involving blades, child." Scalpel said. "Because it's quite apparent that after pushing yourself as you have been the past several days, with all your running and fighting and other high velocity shenanigans, your body just can't keep it up any more. When we met you were virtually untouchable Cauterize. That falseness becomes more glaring with each passing second. Despite your speed Cauterize, your abilities are subpar, your swordsmanship mediocre. Tricks are for amusing girls. Me, I tend to go for substance. And I'm afraid your veneer is about as thin as your grip on reality."

And then Cauterize's fist exploded across Scalpel's jaw, the blow so fierce it would have knocked a normal man's head off. It cracked the alien's jaw and broke off a tooth, and then Cauterize finally re-appeared before the alien, or more accurately slowed down enough so that Scalpel's eyes could detect him.

"Funny, I'm still kicking your ass."

Cauterize smashed 875 side kicks into the alien's chest and gut within a second, all the impacts combining into a titanic blow that sent the brave doctor bouncing across the lawn, losing his glaive in the process and opening up a never healing wound in his chest. He came to a stop, shuddered, and then dug his claws into the ground as blood spilled from his mouth and landed on the grass, hissing slightly.

"Maybe you didn't hear my earlier turn of phrase on the phone with those huge ears, so I'll repeat myself. Do you know what happens to tough raccoons that get their feet caught in traps? They chew their own foot off." Cauterize said, as he whirled his swords down and inserted them into his gauntlets. "So, do you know what female raccoons look for when they want to mate? They don't look for the biggest raccoon, or the prettiest. They look for the one with a stump, because they know that fucker will give them the toughest babies that will go on to make more raccoons. It's not about skill or style alien. It's about what has to be done to SURVIVE, in battle, in life, in EVERYTHING." Cauterize snarled as his metal lattice snapped out and around his hands. "I gave up a hell of a lot to do this Scalpel. But I have accomplished my job. This is finally going to be a nice town again. And humanity's inability to be totally selfless notwithstanding, NOBODY is going to take that away from me. NOBODY!"

Coughing, Scalpel tried to get up, but his vision blurred and he promptly fell on his face again. Tasting dirt and fresh grass, he staggered up once again, feebly clawing at his wrist.

"And for trying…you can just be the icing on the cake Scalpel. Make whatever peace you want, this is your last five seconds on Earth." Cauterize said. "I'd salute you for being a worthy opponent, except that would just make me a hypocrite. You're an obstacle, and you're being removed. So in the immortal words of Douglas Adams, so long, and thanks for all the fish."

Cauterize blazed forward.

And slammed into the invisible barrier.

The blow was devastating, as Cauterize had had no idea it was coming and had done the equivalent of running into a brick wall. At the 300 mph speed he had managed to get up in the short distance he had run. Only his manipulation of the Speed Force saved him from all his bones being reduced to powder, as he reached within himself and "intercepted" the injury before it could become serious. Still, it was a terrible blow and the speed force vigilante staggered back and fell down.

A long crack split along his helmet glass.

Scalpel grinned in satisfaction, momentarily forgetting his pain and his injuries, even as more of his blood dripped on the grass, the volatile liquid continuing to hiss. Blacktrinian blood was pretty potent stuff…as was Blacktrinian tech. Scalpel knew that all too well: when one of his race's elite warriors, the White Holes, had arrived on Earth to kill Scalpel for betraying the empire, this shield mechanism he now wore had taken an extremely deadly war master and made her almost unstoppable. But she HAD been stopped (though at great, terrible cost, but that is another tale), and Scalpel had salvaged her shield mechanism. It had been broken, but he and Cyborg had managed to jury rig the thing back together with Earth technology.

And Scalpel had finally decided to bring it out. Now to see if it could withstand a trial by fire…or by Cauterization, as the vigilante was getting up, a line of blood running from his mouth.

"You…fuck." He hissed, and spat a glob of bloody saliva.

"Takes one to know one." Scalpel replied.

Thunderous impacts rang into Scalpel's ears as Cauterize blitzed the shield, which was in a small area around Scalpel, with blows. Scalpel felt the device on his arm heat up, and he could almost swear he could feel it spasm, like an animal in pain.

Not good. Even the latest Blacktrinian shield device wouldn't be able to stand up to a barrage like this for long.

And how long Scalpel's spit and bindle wire one would hang on…well, it may yet set its own speed record.

* * *

In the flaming wreckage of what had been the lord and master of Light City's domain, a huge pile of flaming wood stirred.

Several white lines poked from gaps and then shot into the ground. A second later the wreckage exploded up and away, revealing a white cocoon floating in the air, carried by more Shimmer lines. The lines acted as legs, carrying the cocoon across the deadly field of heat and death and to the edge, where it unfurled as Savior dropped back to the ground, a little worse for wear but still full of piss and vinegar.

And he could hear the impacts, as Cauterize furiously assaulted Scalpel's shield. And Savior didn't need to know the workings of the apparatus to know it wouldn't hold out long.

Savior looked around, and his eyes fell on the ground. He had a strange idea.

* * *

Sparks flew from the device as Cauterize completed his last bombardment of kicks and punches, and Scalpel hissed. Without his glaive and with his injuries, and with Cauterize as mad as he was…

Was this the end? Would he never see his beloved Sophie again? Would he die without his race ever learning what he longed someday to teach them? Would Robin, who had never really liked him, come to his funeral? Would there be enough left of him to have a funeral? Could Starfire remember the proper Blacktrinian honor rites…

And then he yelled as Cauterize zapped to the edge of the property and blasted back, slamming both his fists into the shield. The device made a noise that almost seemed to be a scream and then exploded on his wrist, even as the barrier broke apart like invisible glass and scattered to the wind.

Cauterize smirked, showing bloody teeth.

"Now…let's make this memorable, shall we?"

The uppercut crashed against Scalpel's jaw, but no sooner had he started going up when he went back down, as Cauterize whipped out his blades and slammed them down, ramming them straight through Scalpel's feet and pinning them to the ground like an insect. The alien screamed.

"No running for you." Cauterize said, and then fired off a round of punches into Scalpel's gut. The alien couldn't tell how many there were: to him it felt like three ferocious impacts, as he reared up and then collapsed at Cauterize's feet.

Cauterize started reaching for him again, and then he paused as Scalpel moaned. He withdrew his hand and looked at Scalpel for a few seconds, and then his mouth frowned in intense dislike.

Then he grabbed Scalpel by her hair and pulled him up.

"I changed my mind. Sadism is the route of the unenlightened. But unless you give me a very good reason, I'm hard pressed on why I should let you live."

"To admit that part of you is still human…" Scalpel whispered/blurted.

Cauterize cocked his head.

"I already know I am. Sorry Scalpel. It's nothing personal. But people have to know the costs." Cauterize said, and drew back his fist.

And then the ground under the two exploded. Cauterize reared back in surprise, looking around. It was that earth girl! She lived! She'd returned! She…

Was nowhere in sight.

But Shimmer lines were, lancing all around Cauterize. But they weren't aimed at him: they were aimed at the ground around him, and what Cauterize didn't know was Savior had used the Shimmer to tunnel under the vigilante even as he fired Shimmer lines through the ground around him to loosen it up. Hard packed soil now had the viscosity of quicksand, and Cauterize found out that his inability to see everything even with the Speed Force could be costly as he yelped and then disappeared into the ground as it shifted and erupted.

Scalpel watched, even as he reached down and yanked Cauterize's swords out of his feet (they hurt, but his species had developed a resistance against blades, which made him to handle the pain a lot better then a human could. Now, if Cauterize had SHOT him…but he hadn't). He threw the weapons aside (in a clearer mindset, he might have thought of breaking them, but pain was still clouding his thinking process).

He could hear the fight going on underground, though he had no idea what Savior was trying. Was he striking from afar, using Cauterize's surprise at the terrain change? Was he using the Shimmer or the ground itself? And what of Cauterize? Could he actually do anything when he was surrounded by…

Explosions suddenly erupted from the ground, and Scalpel felt a line of heat zip under him. He grimaced. Whoever Cauterize was, he wasn't a one trick pony: he could learn to do anything at super-speed, including dig.

But even he couldn't adapt to being underground fast enough for it to turn in his favor. So in the end he changed tactics and fled, grass and sod erupting from the lawn thirty feet from Scalpel as Cauterize flew out. Maybe he'd had a boost from Savior, as he only managed a few halfhearted high-speed spins at the end before he came crashing back down, not bleeding off enough momentum to make a soft landing.

Savior exploded from the earth nearby, as Cauterize leaned up on one arm, dirt dripping from his helmet prongs. He coughed and spat out more soil, as Shimmer lines slammed into the earth as Savior prepared another attack…

And then the dirt was floating in mid-air as Cauterize left it behind, exploding at Savior and RUNNING straight UP the Shimmer line, defying gravity and doing it so fast Savior's talent couldn't throw him off as Cauterize laced his hands together and slammed them across Savior's face, throwing him backwards even as Cauterize ran out of Shimmer to run on and continue up into the thin air above Savior. He did a slow flip and then rammed his knees into Savior's chest and rode him all the way back down, slamming the white-haired Titan into the ground with a vicious thud.

"Oh dear." Scalpel said, as Cauterize reached down, grabbed Savior's hair, and lifted his face into a cracking punch that broke Savior's nose again and knocked him stupid.

Panting heavily, Cauterize spat bloody saliva onto the ground again and turned his head towards Scalpel, and even with the helmet the alien could tell he was glaring at him.

Then he was kicking him, as Cauterize zapped across the lawn and rammed the heel of his foot into Scalpel's forehead. Scalpel only managed one backwards spin this time before Cauterize zipped around him and spun, slamming a crude but potent roundhouse into Scalpel's chest while he was upside down and sending him spinning up into the air and then back down into the ground. He coughed violently as more blood spilled from his mouth.

"When you wake up, if you do, please thank your friend for driving every bit of mercy out of me." Cauterize said, as he walked over, seized Scalpel by his hair again, and yanked him up.

Scalpel shuddered and then more blood erupted from his mouth, splashing all over Cauterize's torso and right arm. Cauterize's mouth twisted in disgust.

"For crying out loud!" The vigilante yelled as he threw Scalpel backwards. "At least end it with some dignity."

"Fuck you." Scalpel hissed.

"Well, I guess I'll have to be the one with class." Cauterize said as he raised his right hand. "It'll be quick."

And Cauterize zapped forward.

And Scalpel heard a WHOOSSSHHHH as another quality of Blacktrinian blood kicked it: in liquid form it was semi-nasty, but not enough so that Cauterize noticed the hissing on his outfit. But ignite it, and it was worse then napalm…and running at high speed is a good way to generate heat.

Cauterize stopped and began screaming as he re-appeared, all aflame, the fire burning around him as he thrashed and shrieked. It was the first time Scalpel had actually seen the vigilante lose control of himself, and it was very satisfying as he watched Cauterize dance away from him as the fire ate at him.

And then he was gone, and there was a small explosion and a loud hiss as Cauterize ran into the fountain. Scalpel winced. _He's gonna be mad now._

Steam hissing from his body, Cauterize got up, his teeth clenched in pain, looking at the ragged third degree burns that were now on a good part of his right arm. His chest was actually worse: the thicker material had provided some protection but that had resulted in first and second-degree burns, which actually hurt. A lot. Cauterize reared back his head and screamed in rage and pain.

"What the fuck are you things made of!" He bellowed. "Do you drink gasoline? Did you watch _Aliens_ too made times? YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" Cauterize roared, clutching his arm and chest. He sucked in air through his teeth and then snapped out his left arm as he stepped out of the hole he made in the side of the fountain where he had phased through it, the small blades snapping from his glove. "I'm going to leave your guts strew about this continent…"

And then, focused entirely on Scalpel, he wasn't aware of the green form behind him as it reared up, going from bug to bear, and by the time it registered to Cauterize Beast Boy had clamped his huge muscular arms around Cauterize, yanking him up.

"How're yeh?" he snarled into Cauterize's ear as the vigilante yelled in surprise and then screamed as Beast Boy's rough fur aggravated his burns. "You're been dishing out a lot of pain nutcase. Time for you to return your pound of flesh!" Beast Boy said, and opened his huge jaws. He wasn't going to bite Cauterize's head off: just clamp on his helmet and squeeze until the vigilante passed out, and hopefully he didn't try any vibrating tricks this time.

He didn't.

"You wanna eat something? EAT THIS!"

Instead he twisted his head around Beast Boy's dripping jaws and rammed the back of his helmet into the side of Beast Boy's elongated snout: specifically, all eight razor sharp points of the prongs he had sticking backwards from his helmet, the twin inch blades sinking deep. Beast Boy roared and instinctively let go, and Cauterize tumbled down and rolled as Beast Boy turned back to normal. He'd been lucky: Cauterize had missed his eye.

And Beast Boy didn't waste precious seconds agonizing: he immediately turned into a gorilla and swiped at Cauterize. The vigilante dashed aside, then stopped with a hissing curse, clutching his chest. The damn alien's fire blood had damaged his costume, and the friction on his burns was agonizing.

"End of the road you psycho!" Beast Boys aid, as he pushed himself and continued swiping at Cauterize, moving faster then any gorilla ever could. And while he didn't manage to land a direct blow, Cauterize's limits on his dodge allowed him to manage a powerful shove that made Cauterize stumbled back and fall on his rear. Beast Boy leapt up, rearing up both fists and slamming them down, but Cauterize had rolled away by then.

"You're finished! Give up!" Beast Boy said, charging. Cauterize tried to get up, stumbled, and then as Beast Boy's hand closed in.

And then Cauterize was gone.

Where he was, strangely, was in the same field that he had been in earlier. He stopped and gasped, leaning over as he clutched his chest and arm.

He could have run then. Hell, he had already run. But he refused to, as he slid up, flexing his fingers. He could already feel his superhuman metabolism going to work on his injuries, but it needed fuel.

Within two seconds, Cauterize had helped himself to ten ears of corn in the field, as well as several foods from nearby kitchen pantries and what remained of a (admittingly tasty) meatloaf on the kitchen table of a dining family. It was like dumping it into the heart of a star: the substance immediately went straight into Cauterize's system instead of taking the several hours it would need to digest and work its way in normally.

It didn't much change anything, but it would make the burns bearable for what he was going to do. The green shape shifter hadn't learned his lesson. Well, if once bitten was twice shy, then twice ignored was four times as nasty, as Cauterize clenched his fist.

"Going up!" he said.

Beast Boy hadn't been sitting around twiddling his thumbs during this: he had been prepared if Cauterize tried another super punch. But when several seconds passed, Beast Boy had thought that the vigilante had fled instead, and he had turned and started to shuffle towards Scalpel.

The sonic boom he heard in the distance made him realized he was wrong, but all he had time to do was turn around.

As Cauterize exploded up to him and fired off another super punch. Instead of doing a straight punch this time, though, this was an upward facing right hook.

Which sent Beast Boy flying into the air like a reverse shooting star, bellowing all the way as he flew up and up, leaving the flaming ruins of Pierce's mansion behind and flying over the various roads and fields beyond as gravity reasserted itself and seized Beast Boy.

He came crashing down in the middle of the abandoned town that Pierce had bought out and cleared out. The impact, even in his gorilla body, should have killed him.

If he'd landed on the concrete. He hadn't.

He'd landed in a big pool of mud in a crater where a street had once been.

The mud flowed up, giving Beast Boy a gentle shove as it deposited him back on solid ground, and then flowed off him, leaving him spotless. Beast Boy returned to normal form and groaned slightly, clutching his chest, and then he turned into a cat and disappeared into a dark alley, even as the mud pool he had landed in suddenly solidified and became as hard as brick.

Cauterize arrived a few seconds later. He'd taken the time to retrieve his swords, as well as going slower then he normally would to avoid aggravating his injuries. They still needed a little time to heal, and it made him very angry. And he was going to take out his anger on the green one.

"Hey, Animal Man! Beast Boy! Changeling! The Zookeeper! Whatever your name is! Come out wherever you are and I'll promise to make it quick!" Cauterize yelled from the street he was standing in. The lack of a moon and of any electricity of the streetlights made the only illumination come from Pierce's still burning house and the habited parts of Light City which were down the hills from this section, which meant it was pretty damn dark.

No one answered Cauterize.

"Don't make me look for you! It will be far worse if I have to search this place!" Cauterize yelled, snapping out his swords again.

Once again, no answer.

"Fine. You brought this on…"

Cauterize stopped.

He could feel it. A tiny tingle beneath him.

This time, he doubted it was the white haired leader. It appeared he'd been correct in his initial assessment: the one called Terra was alive and she was going to attack. But he'd be ready. He'd cut her down before she could even begin an offense. Hell, maybe he'd give her a haircut to REALLY drive the point home that she couldn't surprise him…

Cauterize looked around, in a Speed Force zone that made everything move in slow motion, as he waited for the rocks to start flying or for the ground underneath him to even start developing the slightest crack.

But it didn't.

But he could still feel the rumbling, and it confused him. Maybe that green haired one was gearing up for another attack while the girl distracted him. He looked around, but again saw nothing.

Then it happened.

Steam started shooting from a nearby grate. It was so strange that it broke Cauterize's concentration, and as he dropped out of the Speed Force state a nearby manhole also started emitting steam. Down the road another manhole started doing the same thing.

And the rumbling increased.

The manholes exploded off their indentations, the heavy metal lids thrown into the air like Pogs, as even more intense stream shot from the holes and the rumbling grew to a roar.

And Cauterize knew.

"OH SHIT!"

Lava exploded from the ground in front of him, the street cracking open and vomiting up the red hot molten rock, as Terra emerged from the firestorm, not even a hair out of place as she rose on a black rock of earthen crystal, power crackling on her eyes and hands.

Cauterize turned, and that was all he got to do as the street twenty feet behind (well, in front of now) him exploded upward as more ejecta spewed forth. Nearby buildings erupted into flames and a telephone pole went up like a matchstick nearby as more lava broke forth onto the streets of this abandoned section of Light City. It had taken Terra a long time to seek out a nearby underwater volcano and simultaneously make a tunnel back to this part of town and yank the magma to its destination, but she had done so, and the best part was when she was done the holes would be easy to seal. True, her manipulations might cause problems down the road…but she figured it would take a few thousand years at least for that to happen, and she figured that people by then could handle it.

For now, though, the lava continued to spew forth, and before Cauterize knew it he was surrounded by it, a pool that gave off intense heat and blocked him in.

Cauterize's head darted back and forth, not knowing what to do.

"What's wrong killer? Beginning to realize that you can run up walls, on ceilings, on water, and ignore the effects of Mother Earth because of your precious Speed Force? Well my boy, she has more tricks then even you can overcome…as your inability to flee proves what I theorized: even YOU can't run on molten rock. Now surrender!"

"NEVER!"

"Don't force me to hurt you! This is a hard situation to control: if I lose it you will surely die!" Terra yelled.

"Fuck you bitch!" Cauterize snapped. Terra's mouth turned down in an intense frown.

"Have it your way murderer. The Earth knows me. I am its user and it protects me and aids me. I can hear it. It does not like having so much blood spilled on it. Let me show you its anger." Terra said, raising her arms. She had no idea what she was spouting all this pseudo-hippy one with the planet nonsense, but it sounded good, and in the end, that was all that mattered, as several chunks of red-hot rock lifted up next to her. She willed them to cool down a bit before she fired them: unlike Cauterize, she wouldn't kill unless she had to.

Not like she had to worry: Cauterize dodged them all, zapping around the area that the lava didn't cover. But when he stopped, he leaned over and panted for a few seconds.

_Hmmmmm. Did Nigel and Noel wear him down? Is the heat sapping his strength? Is…ok gift horse, I'll stop my teeth examination._ Terra thought, as she levitated up more rocks and fired them at Cauterize.

This time he didn't dodge: he planted himself and began spinning his arms to create a giant whirlwind that caught the rocks and stopped them dead. Terra furrowed her brow and redoubled her efforts, but Cauterize matched it, the wind now blowing so hard she would have been blown off her floating rock has she not thought to anchor her feet to it. The rocks stayed locked in the deadlock for twenty seconds…

And then Cauterize won, blowing the boulders back at Terra.

They stopped a foot from her.

"Hmmm. Great plan, throwing the boulders back at the master and commander of all things earth." Terra quipped. She snapped her fingers and the boulders exploded into thousands of pebbles. "Re-return to sender!"

The pebbles rained down at high speed, and Cauterize had to dodge again. Terra followed the vigilante as best she could, and found that she was successful at it: he was moving slower then usual. And he didn't have much room to run with the ever-spreading lava pool…

Which he skirted and then had to stop and leap back, yelping as the molten rock nearly flowed into his path and melted him. Raising one hand, Terra reached out and seized control of that stretch of lava, stopping it as she rained down the rest of the pebbles on Cauterize. He vanished in a cloud of dust.

Terra stayed where she was: on her rock perch fifty feet above the ground. Along with lava, another thing Cauterize couldn't run on was thin air, and if he tried that spinning again he'd just suck up the lava, heavy as it was, and incinerate himself. She had him dead to rights.

The dust cloud cleared…and to her amazement Cauterize was still there, kneeling down with his arms covering his head.

"Care to take that surrender offer now?" Terra asked.

Cauterize didn't reply. Instead he inhaled deeply through his nose. He seemed to be thinking.

And then he turned, and to Terra's surprise he zapped at the pool of lava behind him. _He's lost it! He'll die for sure! Even with his speed!_

But Cauterize didn't try to run on the lava. Instead he stopped at the very edge and then zapped backwards. He again stopped on a dime at the edge of the other side of the pool that surrounded him and ran back the way he came, zapping back and forth. Smoke began to rise from the concrete, drifting up to Terra as she wondered what in the hell he was trying to do.

She didn't see the maneuver: Cauterize was moving too fast. What he had been doing was carefully manipulating the wind, and once he had it where he wanted it, he snapped out one of his blades, which he had put away when he had begun his dodging, and slashed it out.

A blast of very carefully manipulated and VERY powerful wind slashed out, slamming into the lava flow, and like Moses parting the Red Sea the lava exploded away from the ground. Unlike Moses, the windblast was only able to drive the lava away from the smoking, scorched, fire-hardened earth in a very small area, and only for a very short time…but it was powerful enough to get across the entire lava pool, making a split second passageway out.

And by the time that split second was done, Cauterize was across and free of Terra's trap, zapping around the corner and away from the little section of Hell she had made for him.

"WHAT? NO WAY!" Terra screamed. She'd been so sure…and pride goeth before a fall. Gritting her teeth, she reached down and reversed the lava flow so no more magma would emerge. With the spout plugged, the already cooling lava would block itself.

Now she had to deal with Cauterize, and she would deal with him even if she had to use so much power she lost it again. She didn't need her powers to be happy: she had Gar now. But if one of them died tonight…she wouldn't think of that possibility.

She flew on, and found Cauterize a few streets away. The bastard had stopped, hands on his knees, and even from her perch Terra could clearly see he was taking deep, gasping breaths. Good. Even if he'd escaped, he was weakening, slowing down. Now she'd put the kibosh on him and then she and her friends could go home and she and Gar could live the theme of the _Bloodhound Gang's_ lone hit.

She raised her arms, and the concrete exploded again as a long snaking arm of earth twisted out and lanced at Cauterize. The vigilante turned and slashed at it, but his super speed blows only went through the soft packed ground. Next he tried fazing through it, but no sooner had the section he had disrupted exploded then more emerged and chased after him, and he was forced to run. But unlike Terra, he had to (mostly) go around buildings and objects: Terra simply smashed her way through whatever was in the way of her rock snake. She thought of one of her favorite shows, _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_, and how the main villain of the third season, transformed into a giant snake-like demon, had chased Buffy through her high school in the season finale, crashing through walls and whatever was in his way to get to her. But Buffy had been the heroine there, not the crazy killer, and unlike Sarah Michelle Geller's legacy to the world of TV, Terra doubted Cauterize had a handy room of explosives to blow the snake up…and furthermore…

She blinked. She'd lost focus for a bit, and Cauterize had disappeared. Where did…

She found him a few seconds later.

And he wasn't alone. Terra's blood ran cold.

Cauterize was standing in the middle of the street, his arm locked around Beast Boy's chest and his blade pointed directly at his carotid artery. And Terra knew if that was cut, Beast Boy would bleed out long before she could get him to a hospital…if Cauterize didn't decide to just remove her finally found love's head entirely.

"Come down. Now." Cauterize called.

"Terra no! Stay up there!" Beast Boy yelled.

"I don't want to kill him, but I will not regret doing it." Cauterize said.

"NO! TERRA! STAY THERE! TAKE HIM DOWN! DON'T LET ANYONE ELSE DIE!" Beast Boy yelled.

"Gar…" Terra whispered. Her battle instincts screamed at her: attack now. Cauterize would never expect it. She could take him down and end this right now…

Except she couldn't risk Beast Boy's life.

"Just come down, and I swear I won't kill him or you." Cauterize said.

"What friggin' guarantee does she have of that?" Beast Boy yelled.

"I give you my word. Come down and end this, and you will live to see tomorrow. Don't, he won't. This offer has a shelf life of two seconds. One…"

"Ok, ok…I'm coming. I'm coming." Terra said, floating down.

"NO TERRA! DON'T LISTEN!"

"I have to…" Terra said, as her crystal rock hit the ground lightly.

"Step off the rock." Cauterize said. Terra did so. "Ok, raise both your arms."

"Terra, how could you?" Beast Boy asked.

"I had to Beast Boy. How could I let you die after you wouldn't let me?" Terra replied.

"You can have the touching conversation tomorrow. Hands up! And don't even THINK of transforming green one. There isn't an animal on this planet that can survive a cut throat."

"Actually, a cockroach can survive a while without a head." Beast Boy said.

"…Ok. That's very interesting. But you still won't be able to transform before I can act." Cauterize said.

"All right, all right. Just please don't hurt her. I went through a lot these past few days and I don't want to due without her having yelled at me for my favorite movie being _Wild Things…_"

And Beast Boy's communicator went off, beeping out its signature tone, as Cauterize jerked at the sudden sound…

And Beast Boy stomped on his foot, and as he yelled Beast Boy went from the holdee to the holder as he transformed into a gorilla and grabbed Cauterize, hurling him over his head and into an abandoned storefront.

"I might not have read the manual on my communicator, but I knew how to do a few things. Including how to make it beep when a key phrase is said. Very useful when you may need a distraction." Beast Boy said as he bounded over to Terra.

"Gar, you're a genius! I love you!" Terra said, hugging Beast Boy fiercely.

Cauterize's bellow came from within the store.

"Save it Tara!" he yelled as he became an eagle and took off as Terra hopped backwards, her rock exploding upward a split second before Cauterize slashed where she had been. Terra's eyes glowed as she raised her hand, and then the ground beneath Cauterize exploded upward, an entire block of the town disintegrating as Terra made the earth beneath it erupt. Cauterize flew through the storm and came crashing down on solid ground nearby, and as he roared and flipped to his feet Terra thrust out her hands and her earth snake returned, joined by a twin brother that flew at Cauterize. Cauterize dodged rapidly away from the attacks and then disappeared, reappearing several blocks away in a cluster of houses.

"He's panting. He can't keep running. Keep doing it Terra!' Beast Boy said as he flew past, and Terra fired off her earth snakes, smashing them through everything in her way on her trek towards Cauterize.

Cauterize looked up as some homes at the end of the street exploded in a mass of rotten wood and musty stone as the snakes flew at him. His swords snapped out, and Cauterize began running back and forth as he slashed them at precise angles and speeds, sending winds blades out, slicing through the snakes, cutting them apart. Eventually even Terra had to stop feeding them ground and the thick, car sized lines of ground collapsed downward.

Cauterize stopped, holding his chest, taking in ragged gasps of air. Terra smirked. The longer this went, the less speed Cauterize could muster. And if he was slowing down…Terra had a grand idea.

"Go go Power Rangers." She hummed, and thrust up her hands as she channeled her power and sent it out.

The ground where the earth snakes had fallen erupted, the grass and concrete of the streets being thrown away as all the soil and rock and other parts of the upper crust flowed up, slowly taking a man-like form, sprouting arms and a head, and eventually stopping and forming legs.

"Whoa." Beast Boy said from where he was, looking at the forty-foot tall earth giant.

Terra floated down and landed on the right shoulder of her creation, reaching out and linking her will to it. Now her movements were its movements, her desires its desires. And she had one desire.

CAUSE PAIN.

"CANDYGRAM FOR MR. MONGO!" Terra yelled as she thrust out her arms, and the earth giant did so, firing high-speed boulders at Cauterize. Cauterize dodged away and ran for the giant, but the construct showed amazing speed of its own as Terra reared up her arm and slammed it down where Cauterize was and the giant did likewise, barely missing him. He ran by its left leg and nearly got squashed again as Terra twisted and stomped, and the leg replied immediately. As Cauterize ran out, Terra turned and thrust out her arms, and the arms of the creatures aimed at Cauterize and flowed out, chasing after him like the snakes as the giant crushing fists rimmed with bedrock began smashing the ground behind him. Cauterize stopped but it was clear his exhaustion was building on itself, as Terra beat him to the punch: she withdrew the arms and got them away from the ground before he could run up, onto and along them to her. Cauterize stopped in mid-run as the arms withdrew and she could hear him yell in frustration as she foiled his plan. She'd give him something to yell about, as she reached deep down inside of her and called upon even more power as she bent her legs. Cauterize's mouth formed a perfect O as the creature knelt and then leapt high into the air, heading for where Cauterize was. He ran, but the gigantic impact of the creation landing caused the earth to shake violently, throwing Cauterize off his feet and sending him into a tumble along the ground.

Terra saw his form go bouncing along and headed her earth creature in that direction.

Cauterize slowly rose, got to one knee, staggered, dropped down…and then collapsed on his face.

Terra let out the breath she had been holding. She'd done it. She had…

Cauterize exploded off the ground, having faked the girl out. And he wasn't playing around.

All Terra heard was a series of whooshes and humming/zapping noises as Cauterize ran up the leg of the creature and phased through it's ankle, and then ran over to the other leg and phased through that, and all within a half second ran around and through the creature and then away from it, stopping.

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

The earth giant exploded, all of Cauterize's matter disrupted sections detonating almost at once, smashing the mighty giant to dust and sending Terra flying through the air with a scream.

"Got you!" Beast Boy said, as he flew in as a griffon and swooped under Terra as Cauterize turned, light gleaming along the cracked face of his helmet.

"No more playing around." He said.

"Quick Gar, he's exhausted, we have to…" Terra began.

A section of concrete exploded as Cauterize phased his hand into the ground, but that wasn't his attack. That came when Cauterize zapped off into the distance, and then, as the explosion blew, knocking a chunk of street up, he blitzed back towards it, as the chunk of road became a ramp that Cauterize ran up and launched himself into the air, as he shot up into the air like a bullet and rammed his shoulder into Beast Boy so hard he sent the giant flying creature he had become into a tumble, Terra nearly falling off his back in the process.

"Say hello to Kansas." Cauterize said, and he launched into a spin, the wind vortex snagging the teen couple. Terra screamed and found the breath being sucked from her lungs as she and Beast Boy, her hands tangled into his fur, were whirled around and around as brain numbing speed.

But unlike last time, where the tornado had just been that, this one had a purpose. Cauterize had carefully manipulated the wind so that he wasn't just spinning Terra and Beast Boy around: he was spinning them much like a discus or hammer thrower would in order to toss his equipment, and you know how that kind of spinning ends, as Cauterize stopped at the exact second and sent Beast Boy and Terra flying off into the distance, screaming all the way as they tumbled helplessly through the air, completely out of control.

As they fell towards the populated part of Light City, Cauterize went back to spinning to slow himself down, and he landed. He took a deep breath and, behind his helmet, his eyes opened, determination and rage in them.

"If the fall doesn't kill them, they'll regret that it didn't." Cauterize said, and left the ruined section of town behind as he zapped after the two.

* * *

Beast Boy and Terra came down in the middle of an intersection, though there weren't too many cars. Good thing too: it would have been damn inconvenient for them as the road broke open and a fist made of earth shot out and grabbed the two falling Titans, absorbing the impact and velocity of their trip as good as any padding.

"Ohhhhhh…Beast Boy? Are you all right?"

"I think so…" Beast Boy said. He had turned back to normal to try and get some control over himself during the throw: it hadn't worked but it had allowed Terra to catch both of them safely. "Are you sure he's tiring out?"

"He's probably running on adrenaline and rage, but that's the fuel equivalent of junk food. He has to be his last legs, no man…"

A door slammed into the earth next to Terra's head. A car door. Buried two-thirds of the way of the hard packed earth Terra had converted the landmass to before she prepared to put the two of them back on the ground. Her eyes widened.

Cauterize looked at the terrified young man who was looking at him from his car seat. He would have been looking at Cauterize through the window on the driver's side door…except Cauterize had just zipped up, yanked the (unlocked) door open, and sliced it off at its hinges, before charging the door with kinetic energy and throwing it at the two teenage heroes.

"I hope you're insured." He said.

"Whu-what?" the young man stammered.

"Hope you're insured. If not, it sucks to be you." Cauterize said, as his sword flashed out: four superquick slashes and the whole front window of the car fell forward onto the hood. The man undid his seatbelt and ran away scream as Cauterize picked up the window and punched the glass, shattering it into a group of pellets held together by some gummy concoction. Cauterize grimaced.

"Damn safety glass." He said, but he used the still floating (to him in his Speed Force state anyway) clumps anyway, as he grabbed them and charged them with a massive jolt of kinetic energy so they would go far faster then a normal throw could propel them. In another universe, a superhero with a similar ability would cause things to explode on impact when he did this. Here, however, it just turned anything Cauterize could manage to get his hands on into a deadly weapon. Much like a villain in that other universe who…getting back to THIS universe…

Terra and Beast Boy squawked and dove away as the safety glass pellets were fired at them, hitting the still formed earth hand like bullets. The two slid off it and headed for the ground, where Beast Boy turned into a triceratops, closed his eyes, and charged at Cauterize. Cauterize fired what was left of his "ammo" at Beast Boy, but the dinosaur's ultra thick bone helmet shrugged the impacts off, and Cauterize dove out of the way as Beast Boy rammed into the car and sent it crashing down the road, even as people finally realized a huge fight was starting and ran for it.

Cauterize materialized near another car, and with a snarl he grabbed one of the windshield wipers, yanked it off, charged it up, and hurled it at Beast Boy. The deadly spear thudded into his bony head, and he winced, but he ignored the pain as he charged at Cauterize again. Cauterize fired the other windshield wiper at the triceratops with no effect, so he went larger and sliced the hood off the car before he grabbed it and hurled it at Beast Boy at super-speed, the whirling cover of metal now potent enough to slice through even Beast Boy's giant cranium.

Too bad for Cauterize he missed as Beast Boy turned into a mouse, the deadly projectile whirling over him and running into a stone wall Terra had formed as Beast Boy reformed into a T-Rex and snapped his jaws at Cauterize, who dodged away again, looking at the huge dinosaur.

Then Terra was there, hurling a boulder at Cauterize.

And then she was gone, sent flying down the street by a punch to the face, as Cauterize ran over to her, punched her, and then ran back to her still flying boulder. With a quick slash he sliced a small chunk off and ran a little more so he had an optimum angle.

"The bigger they are…" Cauterize said, and then he hurled the small chunk of stone. Much like David and Goliath (if David could throw a stone at roughly 7400 miles an hour), the small rock slammed into Beast Boy's skull right between his eyes, and even his gigantic frame was knocked backwards from the impact, crashing down on the street in a tremendous racket. Stars dancing in his vision, Beast Boy became human again, clutching his forehead and groaning.

"Now all I need…damn, there's never a car around when you need one…" Cauterize said as he looked around.

"Allow me."

And then the mini-van was hurled at Cauterize, who entered his enhanced state and managed to do a Matrix dodge backwards, just letting the van clear his head. It crashed to the ground behind him as Cauterize snapped up and looked in surprise at Savior, who was lowering himself down to the street.

"I thought you were finished." Cauterize said.

"Not well enough it seems." Savior replied.

Cauterize cocked his head, smirking with one side of his mouth.

Then he snapped up his arm as Scalpel swung down and slashed out with his glaive, stopping the weapon with his own…and then Scalpel open his mouth and spit out liquid…blood. His own blood. Cauterize reeled away as the powerful chemical makeup the alien plasma possessed hit the ground and started to hiss, and Scalpel hit the ground and whirled, spinning his glaive again. Cauterize blocked the blow and backhanded the alien, but then Savior was there, firing dozens of strands at the vigilante, and he waved in and out of them before running away and stopping. He took a few gasping breaths and then charged at Savior, his blade slashing out…

The Shimmer flowed up and snapped over Cauterize's hilt, stopping the blade six inches from Savior's forehead.

"Slowpoke." Savior said.

Cauterize kicked him in the balls.

"Soprano." Cauterize replied, and several dozen punches sent Savior flying through a nearby window.

(Oh, just in case you were wondering, Savior fortunately wears a cup).

Cauterize turned around, breathing heavily. Unlike all the other times though, he didn't stop after a few gasps of air. This was a clear state of hyperventilation.

But it didn't get him any mercy, as Terra flew in, her eyes blazing, and rock spikes erupted from the ground where Cauterize had been standing. Cauterize ran at Terra and leapt, kicking her in the chest and sending her flying, but as soon as he landed he stopped, continuing to hyperventilate.

Roaring, Beast Boy leapt at him as a lion. Cauterize dodged aside, kicked him in the ribs, and punched him in mid-air to sent him crashing into a newspaper box, and then he had to stop to breath again. Pulling himself from the window, Savior watched this with realizing eyes.

"He's on the ropes, SWARM HIM!" Savior yelled.

"NEVER!" Cauterize yelled, and spun around as Scalpel slashed at him with claw and glaive, dancing away from the blows and then flipping over a lashing Shimmer line…only to be caught when the line whipped back and whacked him across the chest. He tumbled along the ground and leapt to his feet, and then rock pillars exploded from underneath him, bringing him up to where Terra was floating above the ground and waiting with another pillar of rock that she hurled at the vigilante. A superfast sword slash sliced it in half…and then Terra slammed the two halves together, disintegrating them and creating a huge cloud of dust. Terra flew into it and a second later Cauterize came flying out, courtesy of a boulder ram. Terra flew out after him and shrieked as Cauterize flipped over and spun his arms, blowing her into a wall. He landed and Shimmer lines lanced from the ground, grabbing his ankles and lifting him up, but Cauterize spun and wrapped the lines around himself like spaghetti and a fork, throwing Savior forward and past Cauterize as he sliced the line with a sword and sent the now screaming hero bouncing down the street, peeling off the twitching white line and taking a few steps back, and then Scalpel was there again, slashing his glaive down…

Cauterize brought up his right arm…

The blade shattered as Scalpel's weapon broke through the sword and slammed into the top of Cauterize's helmet. The vigilante stumbled back as his helmet glass cracked even more, though it didn't break. Scalpel pressed his advantage, stabbing rapidly at Cauterize, who did his best to block with one blade. Scalpel grinned fiercely, even as more blood leaked from within him.

Then Cauterize clotheslined him and punched him in the back in mid-air, sending him flying through a car windshield.

Cauterize stopped. His breath was now going in and out of him so fast it sounded like he would accidentally cough up his lungs.

Terra flew in, firing a rain of pebbles. Cauterize ran back fifteen feet and stopped, needing to breath, standing still for a few seconds…and then Beast Boy was there, wrapping around Cauterize's feet as an anaconda, but not quick enough as Cauterize freed his legs before Beast Boy could tighten his grip and ran up the coiled snake body, leaping and kicking Beast Boy across the face, then spinning and landing on his feet, stumbling a bit as he tried to get air into his lungs, and then Savior swooped in, six lines lancing around Cauterize and trapping him in a rope prison, even as Savior swooped down and kicked Cauterize in the chest, which sent him flying backwards. But in mid-flight Cauterize did a weird motion with his leg and a powerful wind blast slammed into Savior and knocked him backwards, but Terra was coming up throwing more boulders, and Cauterize frantically slashed at them and then fired off another wind blast that knocked Terra from her rock and air he needed air he couldn't breathe…

Scalpel swooped down, and Cauterize, instead of blocking, ran away from his swinging glaive. But he only made it five feet, and Scalpel could see he didn't want to stop, he had to, because he needed air. Scalpel ran it and leapt, forcing Cauterize to dodge his kick. Scalpel had gambled there would be no counter and there wasn't. Cauterize had finally come to the last few fumes in his tank, and could now only use the Speed Force in short bursts before he had to rest.

Scalpel landed and rolled with his momentum, flipping his legs over and curling them up before thrusting out, leaping back the way he came at Cauterize. Cauterize dodged back a few feet and stopped, and Scalpel flipped, landed, and went into a fury of slashes. Cauterize feebly blocked them, barely holding onto his sword…and then he wasn't holding onto his sword as Scalpel slashed out and broke the other blade as well. Scalpel grinned, and you would expect him to try for an offensive move with his glaive, but the alien decided to try a different tact as he faked Cauterize out, planted his glaive into the ground, and thrust out at him with a kick…

But as it turned out, Cauterize had faked SCALPEL out as he used his burst to zip in and deliver several powerful blows to Scalpel's chest. Cauterize ran back, and then Savior landed on the traffic light above Cauterize, ripped it off with the Shimmer, and hurled it at the vigilante. Somehow, he dodged without using the Speed Force, but Terra was coming in and Beast Boy had looped around and was coming the other way, and Scalpel looked up, a demon gleam in his eyes, as he felt more blood well up in his chest from Cauterize's blows and he spat it out, firing the stream of liquid at the vigilante, who zapped backwards to dodge it and stopped…

The sound of the air horn filled Scalpel's ears, and as his eyes widened Cauterize suddenly became illuminated in light. Not just light.

High beams.

And Savior realized that the fight had carried them to an intersection, and with the lack of people Savior had completely forgotten about bystanders. Or people who weren't aware of what was going on the area.

As Cauterize turned his head and looked at the 18-Wheeler as it bore down on him.

"…Huh?" he whimpered.

There were sounds that Savior would remember for all his days.

His mother's laugh, a rare thing.

The strange hissing pop when the Shimmer had first emerged from his palm.

The tinkle of glass as he took his first trip out of a building window (but not the last, oh no, not the last…).

The whirling noise of one of Raw's bladed weapons snapping into place.

And finally…this noise.

As the 18-Wheeler's brakes activated with a screech, but it was far too late as the giant truck struck Cauterize, his body being dragged under the vehicle, and then, worst of all, the crunching, squishing noise that Savior somehow heard under all the other racket of the body being caught in the wheel well…

And then…there was silence.

* * *

"HOLY SHIT!" The truck driver yelled as he hopped out, partly at what had happened and partly at the fact that a green bird had just turned into a green teenager in front of him. If that wasn't shocking enough, a blonde woman riding a rock suddenly dropped down next to him. "AHHHHH! What's going on!"

"It's ok! We won't hurt you!" Terra said.

"Shit! You're those Teen Titans! I hoped to see…Jesus, I hit someone! Oh god, oh no!" the truck driver, who had the jowly face and the beer belly that seemed to haunt the profession said as his face paled and his hands went to his mouth in horror. "I didn't mean to! I didn't!"

"We know." Terra said quietly.

"What the hell is going on?"

"You just ended a war I think…in the worst way possible…oh damn…Cauterize…" Terra said.

Beast Boy, though he didn't really want to know, started heading around for the back of the semi-jackknifed truck, preparing himself, as he peaked around…

There was a line of blood, but no body. Beast Boy heard Terra creep up next to him, even as the truck driver continued to mutter to himself.

"….Where is he?" Terra asked.

"Over here." Came a voice. Savior's. He was standing at the other end of the truck, near the opposite door the truck driver had come out of…and there was blood near the wheel. Lots of it.

Savior barely noticed his teammate's approach. His face was very grim, and Scalpel's expression mirrored it. There was a lot of steam and mangled metal in the way, but…

"OH GOD!!!!!!!!!!!" Terra shrieked as she saw what was left of Cauterize, the body twirled and tangled around the wheel, a shredded arm and neck twisted 180 degrees poking from the wreckage of the wheel well…

Savior heard Terra turn and lose her lunch behind him, as Beast Boy both tried to comfort her and not join her in the act of puking. Savior's own stomach was roiling, but he fought it down. Scalpel was a doctor: he had seen worse.

"Oh god…not right…not right…" Savior heard Terra whimpering behind him.

Savior stared at the ruin of truck and vigilante, wondering what to do.

"I doubt they'll worry about scene contamination." Scalpel said, as if reading his mind. Savior didn't reply at first, but after several seconds he gave a grim nod and reached out his hands.

It took forty seconds to pry Cauterize's body from the wheel, and all they got was most of the torso with unidentifiable organs tangling from the ruin where the legs and lower stomach had once been (Savior heard vomiting again, and he assumed Beast Boy had lost his own battle). The left arm, the bone pulped and barely hanging on, dangled downward, and the chest had been ripped open, shattered rips poking through what had once been a heart and lungs. As Savior watched, a bit of bone snapped off and fell on the ground: looked like a chunk of spinal column.

But somehow, the helmet had stayed on, and the glass hadn't broken, though the neck had nearly been twisted off. Savior was worried, as his strands gently grabbed the head, that it was going to fall off the second Savior tried to right it. It didn't, but the wet popping noise almost made Savior lose control of his own gorge as he laid the body down.

He breathed out through his nostrils, as Terra and Beast Boy, holding each other, came up behind him. Savior glanced at Scalpel, and then he reached down and pulled the helmet off.

Silence.

"Oh god." Terra said, bringing her hand to her mouth. "Toby."

Though half of his skull had been caved in, there was no mistaking the face, as the brown eyes of Toby Garigen, now forever frozen in a look of utter horror, stared back up at the Titans.

There was silence again, as the Titans took in the man behind Cauterize's helmet, the man who seemed to have indeed found a great power in his quest to return to his peak, a power he had used to kill and destroy, perhaps so in the end people would pay attention to him.

"I guess sometimes it is the most likely suspect." Scalpel said quietly.

Savior had no answer, as he heard sirens in the distance and saw the endless void peering out from a track runner's ruined visage.

To Be Concluded


	8. Run Out

Part 8: Run Out

Dr. Peter Radney had been coroner of Light City for the better part of six years, and he'd seen some pretty messy things. Shotgun suicides. OD's on drugs mixed with unpleasant things that one shouldn't put in one's body. Burn victims. Twice he'd seen the result of some metahuman's power on a human body, which could affect it in ways that normal humans couldn't comprehend. He was no shrinking violet.

But even he felt ill when he looked at the shattered ruin that had once been Toby Garigen, placed on the cold metal table. Three actually. One held what was left of his body, the second held identifiable parts (mostly bones) that had been removed from the truck, and the third held what was left that the police and various others had managed to scrape from the scene (which was a lot).

"What happened to this poor bastard?" He asked.

"He fought a truck. The truck won." Savior said grimly. He and Scalpel had been the only ones who had been willing to watch this: Terra was STILL throwing up, and it had been nearly 18 hours since the brutal ending to their second battle with Cauterize, and Beast Boy wasn't much better. But Savior didn't mind. He didn't mind a lot at the moment: his attitude was rather nihilistic.

"So…this was the terrible Cauterize huh?" Dr. Radney said, as he quickly recovered his professional poise and stepped up, looking at Toby's body. "Why didn't he just dodge out of the way?"

"We wore him down too much. He became exhausted, unable to constantly use the Speed Force, the power that gave him his quickness. So when he used it to dodge one of my blows…he inadvertently backed into this. And well…" Scalpel said, and trailed off.

"I see." Dr. Radney said. "Well, I'm not sure what you're attempting to find here. There's not a lot left…and besides, you know the cause of death. You witnessed it first hand."

"I'm not sure myself doctor." Savior said quietly. "But I think it's better then the alternative."

The alternative was actually rather boring.

Roman Fernendez had been found in one of the lockers in the police station, tied up and tightly gagged, to the point where he probably would have suffocated over time had they not located him. Said location had come when the first police officers had been returning from the scene of the crime after they finally broke out of their own police station, a station Toby had sealed them in after he had faked Roman's "breakout". He'd apparently brought a bunch of metal rods that he had superheated with his speed, melting them and fusing them against all the doors and windows of the building. The police had been quite gung ho when they had finally smashed their way out and headed for the battle scene…but by the time they arrived it had been over for nearly ten minutes. Looking at the battered and aghast Titans, and what remained of the vigilante they had known as Cauterize, it hadn't taken much for the macho, let's kick some ass attitude to die down.

Ten minutes later Garry Turnquist had shown up, having heard of the chaos on his personal police scanner. Apparently, that was all the motivation he needed to finally make his decision, as he resumed command from Lieutenant Fielding and took charge of the scene and cleanup. Since most of the officers had been needed in case of (and presumed great deal of) trouble, the fact that Cauterize was dead allowed Turnquist to send them home. So, coming down from the adrenaline rush (and most secretly glad the battle was finished when they had arrived), they had headed back to the station, and a large group decided to take showers…and low and behold one of them had opened their locker and Fernendez had fallen out, negating the need to start asking questions of where he was if Toby Garigen had been Cauterize.

The Semi-Titans had stayed at the scene for nearly two hours, answering questions, helping with the cleanup, and after the media had shown up, keeping them at bay. Cleaning up what was left of Toby was an extremely difficult task, and highly unpleasant at that.

Savior had expected, at some point, for Chesbro to show up.

He never had.

Once it was all done, Turnquist had suggested the Titans get some sleep and had two of his men drive them back to the Titans' old hotel. The Titans had crashed there, sleeping for nearly ten hours.

More details had emerged when they woke up, as the city reeled from the events of the previous night.

But the most damning was what the police had found when they had arrived to pick up Miranda Garigen and take her down to the station to identify her son's body (Savior grimaced: he had heard they had had to show her a picture and even THAT had put her into a hysterical insanity. They had had to give her a sedative), as well as search the Garigen house.

The basement had been a tricked out workshop, with several different power tool setups, all neatly arranged around a base of operations. Not only had the police found spare metals, fabrics, and other materials, they'd found three sets of back-up swords identical to the kind Cauterize used, two spare costumes, a spare helmet, and an altered treadmill that apparently went at a speed that was ten times faster then the normal fastest setting on such devices (Savior assumed that was for workouts, most likely light ones). Along with that had been a computer that was still being sifted through, but it was filled with data that mirrored the collection Roman Fernendez had…and a diary, in which there were several long entries. Savior had taken a look, and read of a sordid little tale of an egomaniac desperate to regain the adoration of the masses. Exactly how Toby discovered the Speed Force was not clear: he spoke of one night where he had discovered "that this truly is my destiny" and after that had started theorizing on how to regain his glory, which had eventually ended with the conclusion that he had to clean up his city. His father, who was calmer but in no less pain then his wife, had identified the diary as having his son's handwriting. When questioned about the workshop, he had said that the basement "was Toby's room" and they never went down there…because, after all, he was doing nothing but running, right?

It made Savior sad all over again. Here was a set of parents who clearly cared about their son…yet in the end they knew nothing about him…

Yet…they were hardly the sole proprietors of that fault. Savior had suspected Toby, but it had been more of his nodding to Occam's Razor then any true belief. After all, he was a runner, not to mention he didn't act like Cauterize did. Didn't that almost make it a certainty that Toby was just a red herring?

In the end, it looked like Noel should have paid more attention to said Razor. Toby's attitude was apparently a hide in plain sight tactic, and he apparently had more intelligence and patience then anyone could have imagined. Amazing the things people can hide…

And yet…

And that was why Savior was here with Scalpel. Despite the proof, something was nagging at Savior. The pieces…fit too well. In real life, there was always something that no one could puzzle out, something people had to ultimately forget about because they couldn't figure it out.

There were no loose ends like this.

"Doctor…" Savior said, as Radney looked up at him. "Can you tell from what's left of his chest if there were burns on it?"

"I'll try…" Dr. Radney replied, though it was easier said then done: Toby's chest was pretty much shredded to nothing. But Dr. Radney was nothing if not stubborn, as he carefully examined the ruined torso, occasionally taking a sample.

"We might have some burn tissue here…let me take a closer look…" Dr. Radney said as he headed over to a nearby microscope. He carefully placed one of the samples on a slide and took a look. The two teens wandered over to watch.

"Might have something…let me check another one…" Dr. Radney said as he removed the slide, prepared another one, and examined it. "Well, it appears that there's burn tissue here…probably. It's hard to tell when a body's been so badly pulped like this." He said, as he leaned back to let the teenagers take a look. Scalpel did so.

"I agree. It looks like burn tissue to me." He said after several seconds.

"Hmmmmm…which arm did you say was burned Scalpel?" Savior asked.

"The right one. But good luck verifying that." Scalpel said, as he gestured to the jars of unidentifiable tissue that lay on one of the tables. Cauterize's right arm had pretty much ceased to exist in the crash, and now lay intermingled with god knows what other parts of his body.

"Can you separate the tissues doctor?" Savior asked.

"I can, if you can get me to a better facility and give me about three weeks to spare."

"I doubt the mother will go for that." Spoke a voice, and Savior and Scalpel turned as Garry Turnquist walked into the room.

"Hello chief. Are you sure of that?" Scalpel asked.

"Because she's woken up and is already screaming that we murdered her son because we couldn't catch the real Cauterize. When we tried to calm her down she assaulted two of my officers, and when your fellows tried to help get her under control she nearly clawed your ally Beast Boy's eyes out. She thinks that you orchestrated the so called murder." Turnquist said in a resigned tone.

"Lovely." Savior said. "So…what? You want us to hang around until this issue works out?"

"I don't think you need to." Turnquist said, as he turned slightly and looked at the body. If he was sickened, he kept it well hidden.

"Why not?" Scalpel asked.

"I don't think she'll be…maintaining her pose." Turnquist said darkly. Scalpel looked confused, and projected his feeling at Savior…who looked a bit puzzled himself…before he figured out what Turnquist was getting at. And it wasn't foul play. Rather, just the fact that Turnquist though that Miranda Garigen was so screwed up when it came to her son that she'd probably lose her mind before she could bring a lawsuit together. It was a depressing possibility, and it just made Savior's mood worsen.

"Come on Scalpel. We've learned all we can here." Savior said. "Chief, could I speak to you outside?"

"Certainly." Turnquist said, as he turned away from the body and headed for the door out of the morgue.

"Thank you doctor." Scalpel said as he also left.

"You're welcome." Dr. Radney replied, and then he went back to examining something in his microscope.

He didn't notice Savior stop by the body again, looking down at the glassy eyes.

"Was it worth it Toby?" He whispered to himself. "Or…was it something YOU never understood?"

And then he left.

* * *

"I'm ok. Really." Beast Boy said, holding the wrapped paper towels to his cheek. He'd received the wound from Miranda Garigen after she had woken up. She had seemed calm at first, so the police had tried to ask her some questions…and then she had completely flown off the handle and become as vicious as any harpy from myth, screaming so loud Beast Boy had sworn the windows were going to shatter that they had framed her boy, murdered him, all because he was special and they couldn't stand it, and on and on in a mindless rant even as she was being held down so they could give her another sedative. Her husband, whose name Beast Boy hadn't caught, had hovered around during the whole mess, not doing much, as if resigned that there was nothing he could do. While trying to keep her from hurting herself, Beast Boy had been hurt instead, as she seized on him as one of the masterminds of the terrible conspiracy that had sacrificed her boy because they were incompetent and evil. As a result, Beast Boy's mood wasn't much better then Savior's, as he sat in the small empty office, the door closed, as he pondered the terrible waste of it all. Toby, a mass murderer, dead himself, his mother a broken shell…not to mention all the other people who has lost things. It was times like this that Beast Boy had wished he had gone into show business instead of becoming a superhero. The empty, hollow pleasures of a superstar life might have seemed undesirable to someone with brains…but sometimes it sounded a lot better then this world filled with power and corruption and people corrupted by power, one way or another.

"You don't look ok." Terra said, as she dabbed around the edges of the paper towel Beast Boy was holding with one of her own, though the lack of anything appearing on her towel should have indicated that she was being overprotective.

"I'm fine. In physical terms anyway." Beast Boy said. He took the towel away from his cheek: there was some blood on it, but not much. It appeared the blood had finally clotted and closed the wound. He rolled up the towel into a crumpled ball and tossed it into the garbage bin several feet away. He did not say anything more, but his dark look said enough.

"You want to talk about it?" Terra asked, backing away a bit and sitting on the desk that Beast Boy was currently behind.

"What's there to talk about? We failed on every front. Cauterize killed everyone he set out to kill and we can't even bring him to justice because he didn't look both ways before he crossed the street. That poor woman has lost her son, and probably her mind. And in his death…who knows, Toby may become a martyr to those who have seen too much pain and hurt where they live and decide to do something about it." Beast Boy said, in a tone that was highly uncharacteristic of his usual good humor. "So, all in all…what did this accomplish?"

"Oh…I think it accomplished something…" Terra said, as she shifted off the desk and onto Beast Boy's lap. Beast Boy looked up as she leaned down.

Her lips were soft and sweet, with just a hint of orange. The two kissed for a bit.

"Yeah…I suppose we should take it where we can." Beast Boy said when she broke off.

"I think, in the end, that this will last longer then anything Cauterize did." Terra said, and kissed Gar again.

And then the door was opening.

"…guys I think I could…" Savior said as he stepped in. Terra's eyes widened a bit and she jerked away in surprise, as the two turned their heads and looked at Savior, who had stopped in mid-coming in. For a few seconds the three looked at each other.

"Well, IT'S ABOUT BLOODY TIME!" Savior yelled, throwing his hands up, and then he grabbed the door handle and swung the door shut with a bang as he exited again. A second later, Beast Boy and Terra heard the door locking.

"I'd say that's his blessing." Beast Boy said, looking back at Terra.

"And blessed we are." Terra replied, and resumed the kiss.

* * *

"Chief I need a new room." Savior said, walking back down to the large black man at the end of the hallway.

"What's wrong with that one?"

"Nothing and everything! Trust me." Savior said. Scalpel looked confused.

"Well Savior, besides that, all we can really give you is the interrogation room."

"Fine. It's fitting anyway." Savior said. "I need to get this out of the way in any way I can…thank god it's the last thing, I have too many other things already stuck in my craw…"

"Excuse me…" Scalpel interrupted. "Before I forget, Chief, shouldn't you contact Chesbro and see if you can settle that…problem?"

Turnquist's face looked over at Scalpel, his expression a tad grim.

"I've tried. I heard Chesbro came back here after I…made my mistake, acted like nothing had happened when he found Roman and brought him in. But word spreads…and just when the rumor was starting to gather steam he left. No one's seen him since. Several people have called his house, including me. No one's answered. I've sent two units past. They say the house is completely dark, nothing moving inside at all."

"So where is he?" Scalpel asked.

"I don't know…" Turnquist replied.

"Why didn't you just have someone kick his door down to be sure?" Savior asked.

Turnquist fixed Savior with the look of a teacher catching a child cheating on a test.

"It would at least let us know if he was there!" Savior said defensively.

"And if he was there, I think it would be the final insult." Turnquist replied. He didn't elaborate on how, but Savior had a pretty good idea. "Chesbro's a good officer…even considering what happened. He'll keep his ear to the ground, and I'm sure he'll show up eventually." Turnquist said.

"If you say so." Savior replied.

Turnquist was about to say something when another police officer came up to the group.

"Sir, I'm afraid the interrogation room is being used at the moment." He said.

"Damnit. You want something else?" Turnquist asked.

"I can wait." Savior replied.

"Savior, might I ask what was wrong with the previous room?" Scalpel asked as Turnquist walked away to do something else. Savior leaned over and whispered a few sentences in his ear.

"Ohhhhh…well thank _yuoiy_! I was just about getting ready to lock them in a room with a box of condoms." Scalpel said, mimicking Savior unintentionally as he threw up his hands.

"If only all relationships could be that simple. God knows mine would have gotten a much quicker and more fun start." Savior said.

And even though he knew better, he checked behind himself to see if Raven had appeared.

She had not.

Apparently.

* * *

The house that Jonathon Chesbro owned, inherited from his parents, both dead, may have seemed dark and empty. It was definitely dark, but it wasn't empty.

Chesbro sat in the basement of the house. It had no windows, and the only light in the basement was a small desk lamp that Chesbro had turned on, albeit at its lowest setting. It was understandable that the police that had been sent by his house would have thought he wasn't there, and at the moment he didn't really want company.

The basement was his work area, and it was where he had spent the last fourteen hours.

He doubted he could have left if he had wanted to, as he leaned on his desk, his arms crossed and his chin resting on his two outstretched thumbs as the rest of his fingers laced over his lower face. His eyes were bloodshot, but still very alert. He had not showered, shaved, or changed his clothes in the past few days. He couldn't. His whole being was consumed by what ran through him now.

_…see…_

He'd woken up in his police car shortly after he'd dozed off…or so he thought. His body ached all over, but he had expected that: he had fallen asleep sitting up right in a car, not the healthiest position, even when you're young, and especially when you've been pushing yourself hard for several days. Chesbro came to trying to hold onto fleeting glimpses of things he had seen, crazy dreams…

…_not dreams…_

But it had all quickly vanished into the ether as his body complained about his dozing off. It was a good thing all the criminals were in hiding due to Cauterize, or else Chesbro sitting there in his police car in a deep daze would have made an irresistible target.

Especially considering when Chesbro checked the dashboard clock and found to his shock he had been asleep for nearly two hours.

As shocking as that was, it didn't even compare to what had happened when Chesbro, old habits dying hard, had turned on the police radio. It was about then he realized that he was no longer a police officer and hence didn't have to report where he had disappeared to, only then it was already on…and then the insanity pouring out of his band had made him forget his original reason.

And so Chesbro had sat there, for nearly forty minutes, listening to all the reports and learning what had happened.

Stephen Pierce was dead, his house blown to smithereens. Very preliminary reports suggested that Pierce had actually had all his "workers" and "aides" in the house when it had blown: the wreckage had only begun to be dug through. The explosives had been courtesy of the vigilante, who was, according to the reports, dead too: he had engaged in another battle with the teenage metahumans and they had apparently worn him out enough so that he had fallen out of his speed state at a very bad time, which had resulted in what was being described as a "horrific" death.

It was near the end that a name finally came through: Toby Garigen.

At the sound of the name, it happened again. The blackness swarmed up, not giving any indication of its coming presence, but instead doing the equivalent of sneaking up behind Chesbro and whacking him on the back of his head with a hammer. He fell forward…

…_eyes…_

His head hit the steering wheel, and the blackness was chased away by the pain as Chesbro abruptly came back to life, the image he had seen fading fast. He tried to hang onto it, but it was swiftly gone, as swiftly as…

…_the vigilante…_

Chesbro jerked up, as blood began to flow slowly from his nose. He put a hand to his face and took it away, gazing dumbly at it. He had a nosebleed. But he never got nosebleeds…

Much like he never had before constantly been dozing off and waking up, his mind awash in strange images he couldn't place or remember…

It had occurred to Chesbro that with Pierce dead, he might have wanted to turn around and head back to the police station, speak to Turnquist, find out what was going on now…

But he couldn't.

Because…

He couldn't explain it, as he started his car back up and started driving again, hoping he didn't get hit with another sudden blackout…

_…not blackouts…_

He had to get home. To sleep, at least.

But when he had gotten home, he had found himself drawn to his study, to his notes, to all the information he had gathered, once again looking at it all and wondering what was he missing…

The only call he made was to another old department friend. This one worked in records. Jonathon Chesbro wanted a few things, no, he needed them, even if it exposed him in some way…

…_what exposure are you worrying about…_

The friend said he would do what he could, and so far he had delivered everything he had promised via email and fax…except one.

And so Chesbro had sat there, wondering why he couldn't fall asleep now, wondering what had gotten into him. He didn't have any kind of mental disorder, at least according to the doctor. Yet he was still blacking out. WHY?

And why did he feel the need to sit down here, looking at all his gathered information, when the Cauterize case was closed? He'd turned on his scanner a few times, heard the chatter and gossip. They'd found the evidence, lots of it, and the vigilante was irrefutably dead. So why keep thinking…

_…you don't need to think…_

The fax machine began to whir, and Chesbro turned his tired eyes to it. That would be the last bit. Maybe once he had it all together, he could finally put to rest this strange uneasiness that gnawed at him…

He did not get out of his chair: instead he whirled on its pivoting spring and rolled towards the fax machine as his last request began to emerge from it

It was a good thing.

It meant he had less distance to fall.

As his eyes fell on it…

And then his head and what he knew once again fell into the blackness.

* * *

"Why am I still here?" Roman Fernendez said, his voice part complaining, part outrage, part resignment, part exhaustion, part boredom, and just a smidgeon of whining. While our blacked out…friend Chesbro may have been a bit disheveled, Roman Fernendez was ten times so, his time spent hiding in the records basement added on top of being shoved in a jail cell, then knocked out, tied up and stuffed in a locker, and then untied and only giving some human courtesy for about ten minutes before he was stuffed back in a jail cell to get him out of the way as the chaos rose once more in the police department, only to finally be allowed out…and stuck in the same interrogation room where his loudly proclaimed innocence had fallen on deaf ears. He had only been there for thirty seconds though, before he had company: Savior, the white haired and garbed leader of the four metahumans who the late Geoffrey Tercero had called to deal with Cauterize. And from what Roman had heard, they had succeeded.

"You tell me." Savior replied.

"Well, seeing how the vigilante is dead, I assume it is due to some kind of group sadism. Considering I'm now mayor of this city, that's really not very wise. But I'll be forgiving…if you let me out right now." Roman said.

Savior seemed more interested in a spot on the table he was rubbing with his fingernail then what Roman was saying. A slight flash of anger bloomed on Roman's features.

"Look, I know you may feel aloof to my discomfort, considering that you probably had a hand in my arrest and imprisonment on false charges, and since you don't work out of this area you know you can just leave to escape any retaliation I choose to make, but I have been undoubtedly cleared of any possibility because…"

"Oh yeah, you certainly seem cleared. We found all the gear, computer records, even a _Chicken Soup For The Murdering Vigilante's Soul_ in Garigen's house. Pretty cut and dried." Savior said in an absent minded tone.

"Then why…"

"Except for one thing."

"What?" Roman said, clearly exhasperated.

"I mean, some people are telling us how could we not see it was Garigen. I mean, he was a champion runner…in a town that had turned on him when his injury forced him to stop running…a former prince of his school that was desperate to regain the worshipped status he once had…"

"So?"

"So…I just find it strange that Garigen was able to get all the information he had."

"He had super speed."

"True…but superhuman speed will only take you so far. No…to get the kind of information he had…you need a few more things. You need…connections. Connections Toby did not have." Savior said, finally looking up at Roman, who was finally understanding where Savior was going with this. "Yet…despite this fact, that Toby was just some kid in a high school with average grades and no outside interests other then his running…he had a great deal of information…information that you yourself had in that little room of yours."

"Look…" Roman said. "I know you must think it sounds ridiculous, but I have TOLD you…"

"Right…the room was therapy."

"Exactly."

"Bullshit."

"What?" Roman said, as Savior stood up.

"You claim that room and all the data in it was your way of making peace. Yet when did you say you started gathering the information?"

"About six months ago…"

"Why six months? Why not earlier?"

"I don't know! It was just about that time…"

"That you finally came up with the plan, didn't you?" Savior said. "I spoke with Principal Tugwell, Roman. He confirmed you made all those visits listed in your appointment books…and you spent a lot of time wandering around the school. You told him you liked the nostalgia. Only I don't think it was nostalgic."

"IT…"

"Did you find him out, or did he come to you?" Savior went on. "How much teaching did you have to give him for him to project such a false front? You certainly know all too well how to put forth an image that is the exact opposite of who you really are, what you really feel. How many months did you sit there and eat shit with Tercero and have to keep grinning? I'll bet Toby was a godsend. But the thing is Roman, godsends are often sent from the wrong angle, if you catch my drift."

"You're babbling. You must have suffered a head injury Savior. You've grown paranoid…" Roman said, his voice soothing.

"PARANOID?!?!??!?!" Savior yelled. "TOBY GARIGEN IS DEAD! WE CAN NEVER BRING HIM TO JUSTICE FOR HIS CRIMES! OUR LONE CHANCE TO AT LEAST BRING SOME SENSE INTO THIS WHOLE MESS THAT YOUR CITY HAD BECOME AND IT'S SNATCHED AWAY! WE CAN'T TAKE IT BACK! NONE OF IT! AND NOW WE HAVE TO LIVE WITH IT! COMPARED TO THAT, I WOULD PREFER PARANOIA!"

Savior stopped, breathing heavily.

Roman looked rather startled, but when Savior's yelling did not continue, he spoke up again.

"Well…all things considered…isn't that better?"

Savior looked at Roman like he had just made an extremely crude comment about his mother. Roman, like many people in these kinds of situations, instinctively kept talking when what he really should have done was shut up.

"I mean…he's dead. He'll never break out of prison, never come back for revenge, never harm another person…if he stays dead…but despite that…isn't it just better if…"

Savior suddenly grabbed the table with the Shimmer and threw it aside, even as more links grabbed Roman by the front of his filthy suit and yanked him up with a scream to bring him face to face with Savior.

"Toby Garigen may have been an egotistical cold-blooded killer, but he could still serve a purpose. And it wasn't to terrorize this town and bath it in the blood of criminals. It was that people who choose that path must ultimately learn that their choice is wrong and they must bear the consequence of it. If we could have captured him alive, we could have shown that despite all its flaws, all its failings, the system can work. But that won't happen now. Since we don't know what happens when you die, we have no idea if you go to some great reward, punishment, or just into oblivion. The only surefire way he could have been punished for his crimes was here. Instead, he's dead. Instead of showing the world of what happens when you do the wrong things for the right reasons, he will instead become a symbol for every man, woman, and child who thinks the only way they can solve their problems is through violence. This is a very dangerous time Roman. Solutions that involve bloodshed may have been the way it was done in the past, but in these times of atomic weapons and gods walking the earth, the world must be taught new ways if we want to survive. Had Cauterize been arrested, charged, and convicted, that might have been one small step. Instead, he becomes fuel for the next kid who can't take being bullied any more and brings a shotgun to school, the next metahuman who thinks the only way to get rid of your problems is to smash them into dust, the next leader who thinks the only true way to solve his problems is to press the button. And most of all, my dear Mayor, it is one more crack in my walls, the walls of my comrades, the walls of my breed, who try so hard to hold onto higher ideals, as slippery and stupid and maddening as they are all the time, who have to fight their inherent weakness as well as the weakness of all their fellows and yet seem to keep being told over and over that the drawbacks between killing for war and killing for peace seem to become more NONEXISTANT BY THE BLOODY HOUR!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Savior finally stopped for air, breathing heavily, even as he continued to hold Roman several inches off the ground, though he seemed to be lowering him now…

"And what makes it truly unacceptable is this nagging, grating, discordant feeling that even that's not the end. No. Maybe there's something more. Something that dearly wants to stay hidden. And maybe it's the fact that the child who thought being a man meant smashing all the other children's toys so everyone would play with him was just thinking the way he was because someone convinced him that was the only way to think! Or maybe, just maybe…it wasn't even that…maybe…the one who did the thinking…DID THE DEED AS WELL!"

And he ripped open Roman's shirt.

* * *

Some time later, the door opened and Savior stepped out, his righteous rage gone, his mood and posture as calm as a night beach.

Except Scalpel could tell it wasn't calm. It was a sense of failure. It was a sense of defeat.

"Well?" Savior asked Chief Turnquist.

"Kid…even letting you get away with that is pushing it. In all your yelling and your suspicion, you forgot that Roman has rights too. And considering all we found at the Garigen house…sorry kid, but we have to let him go. There's nothing to hold him on."

"But the room…the visits…Garigen himself…it can't be…he has to…"

"Savior…we don't have any proof. That he was working with Cauterize…or that he was Cauterize."

Savior stared.

"Kid, I've been doing this longer then you've been alive. And I don't even need that much experience to know why you did what you did. But it's over. You might not like that, but it's over Savior."

"Of course. They found O.J innocent too." Savior said, and he stepped past Chief Turnquist and walked down the hall. Turnquist looked at Scalpel, who shrugged and followed.

Savior had been so sure, been so certain that Occam's Razor was going to fail again, that when he ripped open Roman's shirt he was going to find, if only faintly, evidence of burns, of a master plan that had everyone hoodwinked.

But there had been no burn tissue, no scars, nothing but skin and a light coating of dark hair. And Savior had checked to make sure it wasn't makeup.

And when he'd seen that…Savior had almost lost himself. He had, in a moment of weakness, nearly committed one of the worst sins of being a detective: instead of changing your theory if it doesn't fit the suspect, you try to hammer on the suspect until he fits your theory. And he nearly had done so, as despite his many speeches to the contrary, and his deep beliefs in the law, or at least justice, Savior had almost jammed the Shimmer up Roman's nose and gone hunting for the data he was sure was there, data he needed to have…

Data that couldn't have been proven, couldn't have been used in court…data that might not have been there in the first place.

As mentioned, Savior's experience in investigation mostly came from _Law & Order_, and in that show it was never the most likely suspect, or the most likely suspect charged with the original reason he had been suspected of. There was always a man behind the curtain, someone or something else linked to the mess that had tried to hide their connection and failed, and with Roman's war room, his links to all the deceased, his documented feelings, all the loose ends when it came to Toby…

But…nothing had happened. No dramatic _Perry Mason_ confession. No sudden _Usual Suspects_ twist. There wouldn't be a false wooden leg revealed here.

Just the facts.

Ma'am.

As much as Savior hated them, that was what they appeared to be.

And so he left the police station, Scalpel having gone to fetch Terra and Beast Boy. He looked up at the sky. Cauterize's feint bombs had led to the chemical plants being shut down for a few days, and hence the cloud of chemicals hanging over Light City was a little thinner. There were reports there would be strong winds coming in that night: maybe, for the first time in a long time, Light City would finally see the lunar radiance that gave it its name.

Savior was so busy staring at the clouds and wondering how he could be so wrong that he almost didn't notice them until they were right on top of him.

"Savior!"

"Is it true Cauterize is dead?"

"Can you confirm the alien murdered him?"

"Is it true Cauterize was a police officer?"

"Can you confirm or deny reports you have been seen with the new Supergirl?"

Savior's head jerked down as the media began swarming up the stairs. The international media had finally shown up, not to mention the cowed local media were finally finding their spunk again now that the people that had been repeatedly threatened them to not make them look bad were gone. Savior snorted, and with a Shimmer line he was swinging away. He didn't even care to give a few snarling retorts. He was too tired. He just wanted to go back to the Tower, find a book of Raven's poems, and have some quiet reading time with her, and hope the next time they confronted evil, or madness, or human failing, it worked out in a better way.

His teammates nearly got eaten alive when they emerged, but fortunately Terra had a rock stashed that flew over as the three frantically hopped on it. It flew away, the reporters yelling their questions after it.

* * *

Roman Fernendez was feeling considerably better. True, the metahuman had manhandled him and had looked like he was going to perform an amateur lobotomy on him…but he hadn't. In the end he'd walked away and left Roman. A minute later a police officer had entered the room and apologized for the treatment, quite well actually, and had offered to take Roman to the locker room so he could shower. Roman had accepted, and on the way there was told that he had been cleared of all charges and was free to go after the shower, and was there anything else they could do for him? Roman recognized it as make-nice ass kissing after someone had let the barometer slide the other way and allowed the teen leader of the metahumans to act the way he did, but he accepted it.

After all, it was finished. Savior might not have liked the way it ended, but Roman Fernendez didn't feel the need to try and hold such high moral ground. And while the concept of nearly three hundred murders didn't exactly roll off his back, Roman had rationalized it away on the basis that what happened had happened and it couldn't be taken back.

And the fact that it had resulted in the deaths of Geoffrey Tercero and Stephen Pierce, which awarded him the mayor's seat and left the city open for his own personal vision for it…well, that helped a bit. True, the position was soaked in blood, and Roman was going to have to get some of it on him…but it would all be worth it. He knew it, and so would Light City.

So Roman had not made any threats of firings or lawsuits (he didn't much care either way). Instead he had just asked for a cell phone, which had been provided. Roman had called City Hall and asked one of his new aides to bring him fresh clothing from the closet they called an office he had been stuffed in when he was Deputy Mayor. Then he had showered, and had been in the process of shaving with an electric razor when the clothes had arrived. After several days of wearing the same smelly suit, having new clothes made him feel like a king.

And wasn't he now? With all that had happened, he was King of Light City.

For better or for worse.

But he planned for it to be better.

The media spotted him almost instantly as he left, and he would have been swarmed had it not been for several police officers. The media managed to calm down a bit when he said he would make a statement. Roman figured he would: the car he had called for hadn't yet arrived, and unlike Savior, he didn't mind throwing some chum to the sharks.

"A lot has happened to this city this past week. Many lives have been lost, including the life of the lunatic who began this terror. I regret that the vigilante known as Cauterize could not have been brought to justice, but he will never again threaten this city, or any other for this matter. And while an election is surely needed soon, for now I will accept the office as Mayor and try my best to repair what he has done. If tragedies must occur, let them bring about change, and I plan to make some changes. That's all for now, but I hope to show you all more soon. I believe you'll find it very exciting." Roman said, as the limousine pulled around the corner. He gestured for the police officers to help him get through the crowd, and for some, that said it all: it was not a haughty, command the lessers to do thy bidding gesture, but a "I could use some help here, please?" one, as the police scattered the media so Roman Fernendez could get to his car. He didn't wait for anyone to open the door: he did it himself.

He realized immediately that he wasn't alone in the back.

"Where to, Mr. Fernendez?" The chauffeur asked through the intercom.

"Just drive around a bit." Roman replied, looking at the person who was in the car with him.

He really wasn't surprised to see him.

* * *

Terra has expected a louder curse to come from her made point, but she was wrong. All Savior did was stare at her for a few seconds, and then he looked up at the ceiling and asked "Why?"

Said point had come when the group had arrived back at their hotel, which was still abandoned (and strangely not vandalized, maybe people were afraid of catching meta-germs or something) and found that there was still a fair amount of paper, charts, and general data from their Cauterize investigation that hadn't been brought or shipped over to the now smoldering ruin that had once been Stephen Pierce's house. When Beast Boy had asked what they should do with it, Savior had replied "Leave it. Gar, get the car."

Slight pause.

Terra's point: "Um, Noel, the car got blown up in our first fight with Cauterize, remember?"

Mumbling that someone hated him, Savior slipped out his T-Communicator and began keying it up.

"You people are my witnesses. There was no way for us to save that car." He said.

"Right, just like you couldn't stop Power Girl from throwing it at Doomsday." Beast Boy said sarcastically. "That really made all the difference, truth or not."

Savior gave Beast Boy a sour look, and then turned his face back to the communicator as he waited for an answer.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And after forty seconds, frowned as the communicator suddenly cut out.

"What happened?" Terra asked.

"Not sure…" Savior replied, as he canceled the hail and re-tried. Same result.

"Something wrong?" Scalpel asked.

"Maybe…I think Robin's communicator may be turned off…" Savior said, as he canceled and tried Raven's.

When twenty seconds had passed without any answer, the other three Titans had taken out their devices as well, looking at Savior. He gave them the command with a nod, and all three of them attempted to raise various Titan members themselves.

And they all got nothing.

By now, everyone but Savior was looking worried. The white-haired teen was busy keying in a complex code on his communicator, hoping he remembered all the numbers.

"Oh god…you don't think…" Terra began.

"I think all their communicators are turned off…now that could mean the worst…but it could also just mean they went out on a mission…and hopefully I'll verify that soon…" Savior said as he finished keying in his combination. His T-Communicator beeped twice, and Savior punched in some more digits. Another quick beep, and again he entered something in.

"Scanners up…" His device suddenly said.

"Hold on…" Savior whispered as he raised a hand to indicate quiet. The other three were deathly so.

"Most recent threat detected…Saturday…at 5:35 PM…Class…2." Savior's communicator intoned. Savior looked relieved, and snapped his device shut.

"They're out on a mission. We'll have to wait until they get back."

"Dude, what was that?"

"I logged into our computer and asked for the latest data of any attacks. Apparently something happened in Jump City twenty minutes ago, and they're dealing with it. Don't be too worried, it was just a Class 2."

"Great. What's a Class 2?" Beast Boy asked. Savior rolled his eyes.

"The computer has Class levels for threats. Class 1 is say some robbers who are giving the police trouble, all the way up to Class 5 which is Godsend or Torment showing up for a rematch. Class 2 is some danger but not much. Mumbo, most likely. Maybe Gizmo on his own." Savior said, and then sighed. "Whatever it may be, Robin or Cyborg apparently turned all the communicators off. They do that at times. We'll have to try later…but until then we're stuck here. Unless you want to make a few cab drivers rich."

"No. They stare." Scalpel said.

"Right, and I doubt Terra and Beast Boy want to fly us all the way back…right?" Savior sad, looking at the new couple to make sure his assessment was accurate. They nodded. "So until then, kill some time. I'll try again in half an hour."

Easier said then done.

"Ok…" Savior said ten minutes later. "No books, no magazines, all the TV shows is porno…well, I was going to assume that there was nothing we need in what's left of this junk, but we might as well be sure!" Savior said with false enthusiasm. The others groaned, but they all agreed that looking through the dregs of their files was better then sitting around and doing nothing (and before you suggest that Gar and Tara could do plenty, Gar wanted something nice for Tara, and unless she showed considerable enthusiasm, and she wasn't, he wasn't going to try and talk her into their first time being in a second rate hotel room).

"Fine, I'll take those." Terra said, indicating a desk covered with various files.

"What are those?" Scalpel asked, pointing to a musty pile of paper.

"That's a whole bunch of old newspapers from every local rag Light City has. I'll take the top half." Savior said, as the Shimmer slipped into the mass and pulled the top half over to another desk. Scalpel just shrugged and walked over, sitting on the floor and picking up the top one.

"'Nixon Confident of Great Things During Second Term'." Scalpel read out loud. "….How OLD are these?"

"Some then all of us." Savior muttered, as he flipped through his own paper, vaguely scanning the first several pages before he tossed it aside and picked up another one.

"At least there's something for you to READ." Terra said, as she indicated her current file, which was apparently some kind of business thing from Shawkcorktenningwillis Inc. "Ugh. Is this even in English?"

A Shimmer strand snatched it away from Terra and brought it over to Savior's face. His eyes darted back and forth a few times.

"Yes." Savior said, and gave it back to Terra before picking out another newspaper and looking through it. Terra grumbled and made a game effort to read it, but her brain overloaded after twenty seconds and she tossed it aside.

Beast Boy was chuckling, and Terra turned her head towards him.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, I've got this list of all the people who've been in the LCPD for more then a year, goes back nearly forty years…some of them have really funny names. Look…this guy's name is Gerald A. Gorilla, but there's been a printing error, so his name reads Middle Initial, Last Name, First Name. A Gorilla! HA!"

"How droll." Savior muttered over at his desk. "Argh, what's the point of this…" he muttered to himself as he tossed the latest paper aside and selected the next one.

"How about this guy…Merrick Marsmallo! Marshmallow!" Beast Boy said, and giggled like a schoolgirl, and Terra couldn't help but get drawn in to his simple good humor.

"Great. Can't wait till they get to I.P Freely and Heywood Yubloeme." Savior muttered again, tossing the latest paper aside and grabbing the next one, wishing there was some kind of chronological order to the things, they were jumping back and forth all over the calendar.

"And some are just weird…Merry Kissane! Bet she got hit on a lot…if she's a she. I HOPE she's a she."

"Jacinto Neithercut…who names their kid that?" Terra asked.

"Hey, that's better then…Lynwood Chauffe." Beast Boy said, picking a random name.

"Oh yeah? I see your Lynwood and raise you Leif Doeil!" Terra replied, grabbing the file and flipping it open to a random section.

"I see your Doiel and raise you Chaya Blizard!" Beast Boy said, grabbing it back and doing the same.

"I see your Chaya and raise Jae Aristizibal!"

"Oh yeah?" Beast Boy said as he grabbed it back. "I see your Jae and raise you…"

And then he stopped as his eyes fell on a name.

"Well?" Terra asked, not noticing Beast Boy's look.

"This one?" Beast Boy said, pointing.

"What?" Terra said, following Beast Boy's pointing finger. "That's not that strange…"

And then Terra trailed off as what was on the page sank in.

"……What?" Terra asked.

"I know…you think it's…"

"……….I think there was some files in there that listed relatives and next of kin and such when it came to contacting someone in the event of an emergency." Terra said, reaching up and clawing at the desk, pulling several files down. It took two minutes to find the right file but only forty seconds to find what they needed in it. The two stared at it.

"………Dude." Beast Boy said.

"We better bring this up…hey, Noel!" Terra called.

Savior didn't answer.

"Hey, Savior! Leader Boy! Hello! We have something here!" Terra yelled, looking over at the teenager, who was still sitting at his chair, staring down at a paper. "Look, I know you can hear me!"

"You found something?" Scalpel asked, looking up from his paper.

"I don't know. I want to know what Semi-Leader here thinks of it. Hey Noel!" Beast Boy yelled, getting up while holding the files. "There's something weird here! Noel! NOEL! What, has he gone deaf?" Beast Boy said, as he headed over to Savior.

"Earth to Savior! Come In! We have life here but not as we know it Jim!" Terra said as she followed Beast Boy. "Hey! HEY!"

Beast Boy was just about ready to turn into a baby elephant and give Savior a nose bellow right into his ear when Savior turned towards them slightly.

"…..Huh?" He said to the two.

"Have you gone deaf? We said…" Beast Boy said as he drew up next to Savior.

And saw the paper Savior had been staring at, indeed, the paper with the front page that Savior had been staring at for the past minute, as he suffered the same punch in the gut that Terra and Beast Boy had felt when they had seen the name on the sheet, only ten times so, as Savior's brain flooded with information and possibilities he had never even pondered.

"Savior, Beast Boy has files…" Terra said, pointing to said files…and as Savior started to look at them, she noticed he seemed like he was in a daze…and then she noticed that Beast Boy had acquired the same look. "Oh what the hell, is this catching? Are those Big Brains from that Futurama episode real and…"

Beast Boy pointed at the paper.

It didn't take Terra long to make the same connection that had caused the dazed looks on the two males.

"What's going on?" Scalpel asked, still in the dark. Beast Boy turned to Scalpel and was about to explain…except Savior beat him to it as he grabbed the files from Beast Boy's hands and began looking back and forth between them and the newspaper.

"My god…." Savior said. "…..Does anyone mind if I start to ramble?"

"About what?" Scalpel asked. Savior didn't answer, he just stood up and walked over to the now empty bulletin board and pinned the three documents on it.

And he started to talk.

It didn't take Scalpel to join the other three, as they listened and realized and figured out their own things, grabbing what they could from what was left of the documents as the picture finally became clear, and when it was revealed they didn't have the documents, they wrote it down from what they had seen, heard, and remembered.

Twenty-five minutes later the picture was complete, all the pieces fit in.

And when that happened, the full reality sank into the Titans.

"My lord…all that…and we never…even thought…" Terra said, as she sat down on the bed.

"But…if this is true…then…" Scalpel began.

"I thought there was something amiss." Savior said. "But even I didn't think it was like this…and if this is true…then this was far…we can't win."

The three looked at their leader. It wasn't often they saw Savior with the expression that there was no hope in hell that they could fix the problem…which made it all the more shocking.

"We can't even begin to try." Savior said, and he meant it.

* * *

"I expected I hadn't seen the last of you." Roman Fernendez said.

"We need to talk." Said the figure in the shadows.

"About what?"

"I'm sure you know." Said the figure. "There are still, despite the past week, a few problems that need to be solved. I wondered if you would be up to it…but I didn't want to ask in public. So I got into your car around the corner. A nice one."

"Tercero was a sucker for excess." Roman said. "I suppose I could go with something more practical…then again, everyone should have some luxury. Considering what lies ahead, maybe it would be better to keep it."

"Yes…I'm very familiar with your…ideas."

"You?"

"Please Roman…I didn't do what I did without some knowledge of the players."

"Of course…and you're worried things won't turn out the way you planned."

"Yes."

"Well…you're not the only one with knowledge of what's going on in all the nooks and crannies." Roman said, as he popped open the small fridge in the limo's door. He withdrew a bottle and two glasses. "You needn't have come in person…but the fact that you did shows that you are concerned for this city…if you haven't already shown it. So, I may as well reward your perseverance and courage with a little pomp and circumstance."

Roman poured two glasses and offered one, which was taken.

"Well then…I'm not sure of the official way to do this…but I'll look it up tomorrow and do it then….but for now…I officially promote you to the Chief of the Police of the LCPD. Congratulations, Mr. Turnquist."

"Thank you, your honor." Garry Turnquist said, as he leaned and clinked glasses with Roman.

"Your honor….hmmmm. I could get used to this." Roman said, and sipped from his glass.

As the limousine drove through a quiet rural area, as the two in the back worked on some of the details of helping their city come back from the brink, as Roman spoke excitedly of the possibilities that came with the improvements of the chemical plants…as the car drove past a small house, the two never realizing what they had passed, as we leave them and pan within…

"Why does there have to be so much history?" Kei Michiko complained, looking at the several textbooks on the coffee table in front of her. "I don't even know where to start."

"The test isn't until next week Kei. You don't have to start panicking yet. It's not like we're cramming the night before. That doesn't really work anyway…you can't force feed a brain large amounts of information and hope it will all stick…"

"I don't think slowly feeding my brain information over the period of time we have will stick! There's just so much to learn!"

"It's ok Kei. That's why you're here. I'll help."

"How?"

"I'm already very familiar with the material. Maybe hearing it through me will help."

"You sure?"

"Quite."

"Man…you do all you do, yet you never seem to mess up anywhere. How do you remember all that stuff, Elijah?"

"Oh…" Elijah Versaw said, as he reached up and slowly slipped off his glasses. "It's a gift."

The teenager neatly folded the glasses in front of him and laid them on the table. Kei followed the motion.

"Elijah…I though you were nearly blind without your glasses."

"Rumors of my hindrance have been greatly exaggerated Kei…to paraphrase a famous man. Besides, those are just clear glass. I wear contacts now."

"Contacts…then why wear the glasses?" Kei said, confused.

"Pretty much the same reason you do Kei. For a disguise. I wore them to keep up appearances…just like you wear yours to cover up your appearance. After all, I've seen the way the boys in school look at you…but they're just fools high on hormones…only I…" Elijah said, as his hand suddenly darted forward and started removing her glasses. "Truly appreciate what lies underneath."

Kei looked a bit freaked, as she drew away, her hands jerking up and pulling her glasses back close to her face.

"Uh…Elijah…I don't know what's happening…but we really need to study…I don't have your gifts…"

"Hmmmm. True." Elijah mused, as he drew back. Kei felt relieved. She liked Elijah…but the way he had been acting just then was rather creepy…and what was with the false glasses?

"Actually…not to be narcissistic…but I actually have more gifts then you realize Kei…" Elijah said.

She never saw him move. One moment he was a comfortable distance away from her, the next he was right up against her…and that was really all Kei Michiko realized before Elijah's primary and middle finger pressed lightly on the back of her skull, at a certain point a little higher and to the right of the center of the base, fingers that, if you looked very closely, seemed to be just a tad bit out of focus…

Kei's shock faded quickly. Everything was fading, actually, as shadows seemed to swoop into all she saw. They didn't consume everything though, but rather seemed to dance on it…distorting her view, warping her perceptions…

She could hear Elijah talking, but it sounded like he was very very far away…and she couldn't quite make out every word…

"Interesting thing about power." Elijah said, as he continued to vibrate his fingers at a highly developed level, just enough to cause the proper result without accidentally drilling a hole through Kei's skull. "When most people acquire power…it just stops there. They don't care about the details, they don't care about the…possibilities. To them, the power is all, all and nothing more. One way, or another, they let it eat them alive…that's why so many so called "supervillians" wind up in jail time and again. All they know is the power. They don't ever bother to LEARN it. Because that's the key to true success Kei. Not just having power…but knowing every facet, every notion, every tiny nook and cranny of what it can do. They say patience is a virtue. It's more then that. It's a gateway to everything…including happiness."

"….Hmmmmmmm…mmmm…" Kei said.

"Take super speed. Most people would be content to run across the States within a few seconds. But speed can do so much more Kei, if you take the time to learn it. Toby just tried to apply it to his body…I suppose it worked, to a degree…but when you look at all the things you can apply it too…you'd be amazed what you can find, Kei."

"Wh-a…"

"There's a lot about the human brain we don't know about Kei. We don't know how perception and thought can truly relate to reality…and we don't know how much of it can be turned to the will of others. Hypnotism, brainwashing, all that…they're something, I suppose…but that can take a while…and be highly…noticeable. Sometimes you need to think outside the box…or maybe…just a new way to unwrap it. The brain has a small amount of electricity Kei. It's vital to the brain's function. So imagine my surprise when I discovered, during my preparations…a unique trick. I suppose it's understandable why no one ever thought of it before, it's really a delicate procedure…not enough and there's no effect…too much and you risk severe damage if not death…and the middle ground is too small for most instruments to balance in. Too risky. But when you're like me…you can do it…just right…and produce the exact vibration that, if instigated at certain parts of the skull, disrupts the natural bioelectricity of the cerebral cortex…just a tad. It's a bit like jiggling the cord to try and get a clearer picture for the TV, but in this case, the effect usually demonstrated is a person becoming dazed and confused…but that's just side effects to the main use: it can make people…highly suggestible. Highly."

"Elijah…"

"But…that's just me. As you're going to forget everything I just told you about the technique and everything about me doing this. It's gone. A blank. It never was. It never will be. Right now. Understand?"

"Yes…"

"What did I just tell you?"

"…..Nothing…"

"Good." Elijah said, a slightly pleased look coming onto his features. "Now…above all else Kei, you need to know…I will never hurt you. In any way. I am no threat to you at all…so relax…this won't hurt in the slightest. And that's no delusion, it's the truth. Now why don't you take off your glasses?"

"Ok…" Kei said, as her hand slowly lifted up and removed her glasses, revealing clear almond eyes. She absently mindedly set them on the table.

"Why don't you let your hair down as well?"

"Ok…" Kei answered, as she reached behind her and fiddled with her tight braids. It took a little bit, but eventually they unraveled, revealing long black hair that was clearly well taken care of. Without the glasses and braid, Kei's true beauty was revealed, and she was a lovely girl, maybe even more so then Elijah had expected.

But he was, as mentioned, patient. There was more to do.

"You know Kei…I know you. I know you hate those jocks and pieces of shit who hit on you, day in and day out…but I'm…not exactly the best with women Kei. And on top of that…relationships these days are so messy. So I kept how I felt to myself…for a long time. But now…everything is settled Kei. I've fixed some of the problems that would keep us apart…and with this, I'll fix the rest. Now forget what I just said, and listen very carefully to me now. Ok?"

"…Yes…"

"Are you listening?"

"…I'm listening…"

"You will awaken thinking you dozed off a bit with boredom. You and I will continue to study. After a bit…you will begin to realize something. For a while, you've been attracted to me, quite deeply. After all, I'm kind, helpful, sweet, and I don't act like a dog overflowing with hormones every time I speak to you. As more time passes, you will begin to realize that…you have to see if you can find a spark. So, after some time tonight…you will kiss me…and find in the kiss not a spark but an inferno, and everything you feel will grow deeper and flow through you as you realize I've always liked you too. Do you understand, Kei?"

"Yes…"

"My mom's asleep. She's taken a sedative. The more you kiss me, the more passionate…and aroused…you will grow. You will want to go to bed with me. Are you a virgin, Kei?"

"…No…"

"Hmmmm, probably for the best. I admittingly have little experience…but it won't matter. What I will do to you…when I'm not quite getting it right, you'll still feel wonderful, and when I do get it right…it will thrill you unlike anything you've ever felt before. You'll wonder how you ever survived without it. It will be like touching heaven. Understand?"

"…Yes…"

"Eventually though…such intense feelings will fade. But they will not go out. They will be like embers, the hot coals of a fire after it has died down. We will begin a relationship. You will not be slavishly devoted to me, you will not be unable to live without me, and you will not think that I am the only reason for your existence and that you cannot live without me. Your life will continue much like it has before. But…you will not accept nor believe any criticism given to you for your choice…and when we are together…alone…the embers will reignite into flame. Not always as high, or as intense…but they will always be there. I will not make you whole, or complete…but I will make you happy…maybe, you think, for the rest of your life. Understand?"

"Yes…"

"Ok Kei…and Kei…if some part of you is still in there and thinking this is wrong…maybe. But don't be thinking it's some kind of violation, or rape. Rape is for lesser men, animals. I'm just…getting rid of all the mess that can get in the way of happiness in this world…so relax…I can fine tune this…and if I feel it's not going to work out…I'll fix it so we can go our separate ways and find happiness with others. I'm not a monster Kei. I just want to love and appreciate you…and I just want to make sure you realize how great that is…now forget everything I just said in the last minute."

"Ok…" Kei said in a breathy whisper.

"All right Kei…now you're going to wake up…you will remember nothing of this…but deep down you will feel the beginnings of what I told you…and you will know that it is the right thing. That it will bring you happiness. Understand?"

"Yes…"

"….One last thing. One brief kiss Kei. Just so I know. Close your eyes." Elijah said. There was no gleaming triumph in his eyes, no barely controlled furious hormones or sadistic joy in the fact that he had just brainwashed a girl into falling in love with him. Rather…there was just a slight look of satisfaction, and the contented look of a man who has love and knew it, as he slowly leaned in…

CLICK.

"DON'T. MOVE."

The sudden male voice ripped through Elijah's poise and contentment like razors, as his own eyes jerked open at the sudden sound.

"Don't even breathe, you fucking murdering pervert."

Elijah blinked as he realized what had happened. For half a second, he was aggravated, greatly so, but he quickly got over it.

"Kei…" he whispered. "New plan. You will forget absolutely everything I said from the moment this started and never remember anything that happened. Now…sleep."

"Ok…" Kei said, and immediately she was asleep, her body slowly sliding away from Elijah. Elijah inhaled through his nose, the noise indicating annoyance, as he turned to look at the man who was standing across from the couch and aiming the gun at him.

"Detective Jonathon Chesbro." Elijah said.

* * *

It had been the eyes.

In them, Chesbro had finally found his answer, of both the key to the whole mess and why he had been constantly blacking out. He wasn't sick, suffering from narcolepsy or some similar mental state, nor was he overtired or stressed…nor was he going to sleep and waking up as someone else, as he had secretly feared in a deep deep part of his being, a part so deep he was barely aware of it at all and probably never would be fully aware of if he lived to be a hundred.

He was trying…to remember.

His blackouts hadn't been the sign of something bad, his brain turning against him, it had been an attempt to provide aid, as his mind tried to get him to recall something he had seen once, something buried deep within his subconscious, his mind flitting with images that he couldn't hold onto when he awoke…until now. Until the last one, when he had seen the photo of Toby Garigen's remains coming out of the fax machine…and realizing the eyes didn't match.

Toby Garigen had brown eyes…and the eyes he had seen briefly when he had run into Cauterize in the bathroom weren't brown. They were blue, a sharp clear blue…a pair of eyes that Chesbro had seen once before…

At a picnic an eternity ago, before the bad times really started, on a day when the police department could forget the bad parts of its duties and merely reveal in its camaraderie, and he, a young rookie, walking around, feeling quietly thrilled that he was among them, as his uncle and Turnquist introduced him to several of the more prominent officers…officers he could barely remember meeting…

But there was one thing he recalled…walking past one part of the party, being startled just a bit as the section roared laughter, being entertained by one of theirs, a huge man with a loud voice slightly slurred by alcohol…and the people around him…including a frail women who looked like she was wearing just a little too much makeup and looked torn between the choices of staying there or running away like a frightened deer, and a young boy, no more then ten, who briefly looked at him in the way people look at things whose motion as caught their eyes…and see one of the most intense, cold set of eyes he had ever seen in his life, eyes he had briefly locked with, eyes that betrayed nothing…and yet seemed to be looking at him with faint pleading, and under that, anger…

The same eyes he had seen peering out of Cauterize's facemask.

The eyes he could finally see clearly as he jerked awake, remembering who had them…and why the child was there at the picnic…and with that finally remembered it all fell into place for Chesbro, as he had leapt out of his chair, run out to his car, and put the pedal to the metal, stopping only to check a phone book in a public telephone booth, arriving at his destination…

Why he didn't call for backup, he didn't know. Maybe part of him didn't want to be proven wrong. Maybe he was starting to accept he was no longer a cop but a civilian and he had no backup to call. Or maybe it was a personal thing, as Chesbro wanted to see, face to face, the real man behind the mask…the man who was still little more then a boy, as Chesbro had found an unlocked window near the back and slowly, quietly, made his way in, creeping towards the sounds of voices…and seeing most of what had happened on the couch. When the boy turned his full attention to the girl he had been…what, brainwashing? Altering? Suggesting? Well, whatever it was, Chesbro had taken the chance to slip around front and train his gun on him. And now he was looking at him…looking at his eyes…the same eyes behind Cauterize's mask.

He knew. Even before Elijah spoke.

"Detective." Elijah repeatedly, leaning back a bit, as if he was having a cordial discussion about sports or a TV show. "I'd ask why you're here…except you probably already know."

"I said don't move." Chesbro said, all business, not a whit of fear in his voice. For good reason.

Elijah didn't know it though, as he smirked, ever so slightly, a true ghost of a smile.

"Detective Chesbro…if you are here, then you know who I am, and if you know who I am…then surely you know that you're already beaten." Elijah said. The message was clear: with my speed I could have the gun out of your hand before your brain could even form the command to pull the trigger.

Chesbro didn't flinch.

"Oh, I know who you are Cauterize…so I'll just say, since you can so easily do what you claim…then go ahead and do it."

Silence.

The two stared at each other.

Chesbro betrayed no emotion.

Elijah failed to, as after several seconds of silence a brief, ever so brief flicker of emotion went over his face…but Chesbro recognized it all the same. Frustration. Anger. A tiny bit of fear. The expression of a man who realizes that his bluff has been called. That expression gave Chesbro more satisfaction then he'd had in the past five years of his career…though he didn't show it.

"What's wrong?" Chesbro asked. He was too mature to adopt a mocking tone, but his dry, by-the-numbers rhetorical question was somehow even more infuriating. "Tired? I'll gather you are. Running around the city, killing people, setting others up…must be exhausting. The teenagers spoke of that…they said it explained why you couldn't move out of the way of the truck. You were too tired. But apparently not enough…or at least at the time. I can only imagine how worn out you are NOW…considering at that point you had to run away, grab Toby Garigen, dress him up in your costume, drag him back to the spot, and run away to leave him to a horrible death, all so quickly no one even realized it. Indeed…I'll gather that it took everything you had left. I bet that if I gave you a chance to run you wouldn't be able to muster a light jog…though it seems you have your priorities straight enough to muster up some power so you can condition a girl into wanting to screw you."

"DON'T YOU JUDGE ME." Elijah suddenly hissed, as he suddenly stood up. Chesbro cocked the hammer back, but Elijah didn't move towards him. Instead, he just pointed at him. A more trigger happy cop would have blown Elijah's head off for that sudden angry motion, but Chesbro had graduated second in his class when it came to shooting, and his fine control showed it.

"DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME! YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE, HAVE NO RIGHT, AFTER WHAT YOU DID!" Elijah yelled, though it was an odd yell as it was done through clenched teeth, which lessened the volume but brought his anger across even more.

"I really don't know what you're talking about." Chesbro said. But that…was a slight lie. Chesbro had an inkling…but not much of one. But he figured that Elijah would fill in the details.

"Oh, I think you do detective. With your brain and what you've gathered…hazard a guess."

"Your father."

"STEPfather." Elijah hissed. "Don't even HINT that I was related to that bastard via genetics…hell, don't say that of my other father. Neither deserve it."

"I was new. I barely knew your stepfather. I'd barely been in the department six months when he vanished…I heard of the investigation, how detailed it was, and how it turned up nothing…it baffled a lot of my fellows. You made him vanish, didn't you?"

"And you know why." Elijah said.

Chesbro didn't answer. He didn't know what kind of answer to give…unless it was the one fueled by the few rumors he had heard in the early days…rumors that were rapidly being revealed as truth.

"I never met your stepfather."

"You know anyway. You all do. Because you're a cop. One Brotherhood behind the Shield…what a joke." Elijah snorted. "You may blame me for this past week, but the truth is, you are as much to blame as I am. Even more so."

"I'm not a murderer."

"No. You're WORSE. You're a traitor. You betrayed your own duty for the sake of your organization. You failed in your job because you couldn't admit the truth behind one of your fellows. That's the thing about cops Detective. They rightfully have an us-against-the-world mindset. They have to battle crime, the bleeding hearts who think all criminals will be nice if we just give them hugs, the shysters and liars who will do anything to win, a hostile public that either hates them or fears them or fears to help them, and a vicious pack of sharks known as the media who put microscopes on everything so they can present you as either bumbling fools or lying, power mad racists. With all that, it's no wonder they draw ranks so closely, protect their own kind so fiercely, make themselves a separate family…I can understand that. But it's no excuse for what you do: you're so involved in protecting your barrel you either don't see the rotten apples in it…or refuse to see them. You look at a piece of shit dressed up as a human being that you should be tossing in jail right next to the scum you hunt…and instead you rationalize, ignore, forget what your own eyes see, what your own heart KNOWS is true…because he's one of you. YOU. FUCKING. BASTARDS." Elijah spat.

Chesbro said nothing. Elijah went on.

"You know…we speak of sins of the fathers…something you should know all too well. Oh, I know detective. I do my research too. I've done a lot of it these past years. I know what your father did, and how it affected you. No matter how you try, that will define your life Detective."

"That doesn't excuse what you did." Chesbro said quietly.

"Oh really? Why not?"

"We all have choices. You chose this path. Now you have to face the consequences…"

"DON'T. EVEN. START." Elijah snapped. "You dare speak of morals. Let me tell you what morals are these days Detective. They're an excuse, a crutch for people to give in to their own weaknesses. No one wants to do what has to be done, but God forbid you call them on it. After all, they MEAN well." Elijah said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know of my stepfather, but you don't know of my father. Let me tell you about him. After all, why shouldn't I? What a great man he was, the perfect example of the happy Light City family, the great tourist attraction that was thriving and content! A man who had a young wife, a baby son, and dreams, great dreams. Dreams he would surely achieve! He would work hard, and sacrifice, and eventually he would be able to give his family everything they wanted, and his family was happy to let him, because it was Light City, happy and prosperous…it was a nice town."

Elijah paused, as if reliving faint memories of his early years, memories most of us have long forgotten…unless…

"But my father was one more thing detective. He was a man who could look to the future, to the point of precognition. And when the chemical plants went up, and the clouds started to gather, and people began to note tourism was starting to slack, but they were sure it would rebound soon…my dad saw what was happening. He saw that the good times were ending. He saw that everything that made Light City great was starting to fade. Maybe he even saw that the city was, after so long at such a great high, about to balance it out by hitting a terrible low. And he saw his dreams disappearing. Dreams he'd held all his life. And he began to realize that a lifetime of hard work would get him one thing now: nowhere at all. All he would have left was his family…the family he claimed to love. It would be them…or his dreams. He chose his dreams and left us cold. We haven't seen him since. I don't know what happened to him, nor do I care. He threw us away so he could get what HE wanted. Maybe he moralized it by saying he would come back for us when he found his dreams. But apparently that path just kept leading away from us…even though he probably kept telling himself it didn't. Those are morals, Detective. A way of saying "No, I'm not being totally selfish and weak." I have a REASON!"

Elijah snorted again.

"Fucker. Leaving us for his dreams was bad enough…but leaving knowing what my mother was like…that was unpardonable. You see, my mother has always been a very fragile woman Detective. I've tried to find out why, but she won't tell me and besides from her own tightly held memories there are no other leads to what may have happened to her. But whatever it was, I doubt it was good. My mother…she can't live by herself Detective. She needs her own crutch, someone to hold her up. Whatever happened in her youth, it's made her totally dependent on whomever she was with for her to live. She had no skills or no abilities she could tap to stand on her own. She had to be WITH someone. So when my dad up and left…she panicked Detective. She was suddenly alone, newly divorced, in a city on the decline with a young son. So she did the only thing she knew how to do, Detective: she went looking for another man. She had to. Didn't matter who they were, as long as they could support her. And she found someone, all right. She found my stepfather…and she also apparently found out there were past lives and she had done something horrible in it for what it got her."

"William Versaw." Chesbro said.

"Oh, no one called him William Detective! He was Battlin' Bill, the Suspect Breaker! He never saw a suspect whose head he couldn't crack until he got what he wanted. He never saw some fifteen year old punk or dead eyed junkie he couldn't put the fear of god into! In the old days his kind of tactics would never be accepted…but the city was starting to fall apart, and crime was on the rise, and the LCPD was stuck between the Golden Age and the Stephen Pierce Era, so they were trying to make sure they could stem the rising tide before it drowned them, before Stephen Pierce showed up and bought the department, rendering the whole point moot. But those days…everyone liked Battlin' Bill! He was a great cop, a man who would watch your back, a man who wouldn't back down when it came to taking the scum off the streets, a guy who was great to have a drink with. And I guy I think everyone knew the truth about…and ignored it because to them he was a good cop, and that was all that was required. If you were a good cop on the job, who cared if you were a monster at home? After all, you were there during his last few months Detective. Surely you heard some rumors. Did you heard the one about how Battlin' Bill was a mispronunciation, and what his real nickname was?"

Chesbro was silent.

"Come on Detective. Humor me."

"………I don't really recall…but it might have been…Batterin' Bill."

"Oh, it was. In rumor and in fact. You haven't know helplessness Detective, until you're six years old and watching your "daddy" beat the shit out of your mother because he thought his mashed potatoes were too cold. You haven't felt true pain until you've heard your mother screaming while she's being beaten with a belt and raped by her own husband. And you haven't felt like you were living in hell when everyone that people told you would help, your neighbors, your teachers, the police, turned their back on the problem or ignored it because they couldn't deal with it. And when your innocence dies, and you look into your mother's eyes, and you see GUILT because she thinks that the whole thing is HER fault…then you'll know rage Detective. And when you try and help your mom and get beaten as well, and everyone ignores that…then you'll find what I found Detective." Elijah said, and gestured to himself.

"How did you find it?" Chesbro asked, meaning 'Where did you get your power?'

"I injected myself with mongoose blood." Elijah replied sarcastically. "It doesn't matter where I found the power Detective. What matters is that I used it to do what had to be done."

"What did you do to William?"

"I left him on an island in the Indian Ocean. Truly in the middle of nowhere. The island…had just enough on it to support life…for a short time. I really hope he suffered a lot before he died. But even if he suffered for a hundred lifetimes it wouldn't make up for what he put my mother through…what YOU put my mother through."

"I didn't…"

"Yes. You did. Because you're a cop. As far as I'm concerned, that makes you ALL guilty. Because you surely knew. Not all cops are geniuses, far from it, but they should know enough about how criminals act to know when one of their own is acting even worse. Are you going to tell me that you didn't see it? The way he brutalized people in the interrogation room, the just above unnecessary force he would use when subduing someone, the way he danced between required violence and outright brutality? You should have known Detective. ALL of you. You should have seen that what made him such a good cop…it wasn't enough to keep him in check. You should have KNOWN he wanted more. And you should have known, more then ever, when you saw my mother, wearing makeup and long sleeved shirts and sunglasses, where he was getting it. You should have KNOWN. Because Battlin' Bill, he didn't beat my mom and myself because he was a drunk, or because he was insecure about his masculinity, or because he had anger issues. He beat my mom because he was MEAN, and he LIKED doing it. You should have seen it. You should have seen how he was betraying you and your fellows with his actions. But you DIDN'T. BECAUSE HE WAS A COP. Because he was ONE of YOU. So you ignored it, looked the other way, covered for him, because he wore a badge. You let the cancer fester as long as it devoured cells you could put out of sight and out of mind. Because the alternative was too much. Because punishing him would betray the last bastion you have against the world: each other…when in the end Battlin' Bill wasn't a cop. He was a monster. And you excused him. You did nothing. You would have moralized until my mother and I were dead. That's when I learned that you need to do things yourself…and when I found the power, I did what you couldn't, WOULDN'T do. Because he was A COP." Elijah said, saying the term like it was the dirtiest words, with more vehemence then any criminal could normally muster. "You should feel damn lucky I stopped at giving your department a few humiliations. A lesser man would have killed them all."

"After what you did, be grateful this is it." Chesbro said, echoing what Elijah had said to Turnquist a few days ago. Elijah smirked.

"Indeed, Detective. The funny thing is…I think that line made him suspect you as being me. I wonder if that also played a factor in your firing…which reminds me, since you are no longer a police officer, you really can't be doing this."

"Consider it a citizen's arrest." Chesbro replied. Elijah smirked again.

"Oh yeah, that's a great term. Too bad I didn't know it, otherwise maybe I could have dealt with my stepfather myself without killing." Elijah said, his tone apparent in the fact that he wouldn't be satisfied with the fate of his stepfather if he found out that he was Satan's personal plaything in Hell. "As it turned out, I had to use other means…but when he was gone, I figured that was it. Battlin' Bill was history, my mother had blacked out the entire incident as it came on the heels of another beating, and none of you had a clue. I figured now would be the best time to pack up and get out of town…until I realized old Bill hadn't just tortured my mother. He'd scarred her, irrevocably. He'd always told her if she tried to speak of her plight or leave he'd kill her, and even though he was gone she couldn't get that…and everything in her life…out of her system. She couldn't leave the city. As much as life scared her…change scared her even more…scared her to the point that she couldn't even do it for me. It's funny. She overcame her fear of self-support and got a small secretary's job to try and raise me…because she had the much larger fear that she could never leave this city. Ever. Do you know what it's like, Detective, to have a brain that understands your mother can't find peace and happiness because of what others did to her, yet she believes, despite everything said and to the contrary, that she deserves what happened to her? I'll tell you Detective…when your mother claims the sins of others are hers…you start to have very bad thoughts about those others. And when you look at the others and see that you can't even have a contented life where you are because they're ruining and taking everything for themselves…well…you know something has to be done."

"Not what you did." Chesbro said.

"Still hanging onto your own rationalizing morality I see." Elijah said, as he finally sat down again. "Believe me Chesbro, this wasn't a knee-jerk decision. I knew that the problem was already deeply rooted when I found the power. And even as I tried to sketch up a plan…the roots sank in even more. It was a dark time in my life Detective, even as I trained myself in my power, learned how to use it, gathered the materials I would need…I saw the rot creeping in, faster and more then I ever dreamed of, and I wondered, despite all my preparations, how could I truly think of a plan that would allow me to bring Light City back to its old glory…and then, one day, in the process of my normal life…I found it."

"Roman."

"How astute."

"He helped you?"

"He never had anything to do with this. He was clueless, never realizing he'd become another piece on my board."

"………..Of course." Chesbro said. "He was the one I couldn't figure out…until I saw you just now, screwing with that girl's head. He said that he started feeling the urge to collect all that information he had when he was sitting in on an interview Tercero was giving to a paper…Tercero was giving that interview to you, wasn't he?"

"Indeed. I think that interview that a test to see if I was going to play ball. I didn't: I asked Tercero the hard questions and next thing I know I'm being asked to step down as editor. But…it was worth it, and not just to verify my opinions that one of the things that needed to go was Tercero. I'd seen Roman around my school before, but seeing him in that office…I realized he felt the same way I did. And I thought…I could use this. He could help me do what had to be done, and in return he could get what he wanted. Of course, I couldn't TELL him that, because I had no idea if he'd go for it and even if he did it could be revealed we were colluding with each other, which would throw a big monkey wrench in the rebuilding."

"Roman said he thought someone was watching him for months. He thought it was Stephen's Pierce's men…it wasn't. It was you." Chesbro said.

"Indeed. It's not hard to sneak up on someone when you can move like I can. I followed him home, and I planted the idea that he needed to gather information on the worst of this city…that it would comfort him. And he did. With his position and personal feelings, he did quite a bit. I never could have done it without him, as he slaved away collecting all the data, and when he dozed off I'd slip into his little room and copy it down. True, it looked bad when he was discovered…but besides my little suggestion, he had no connections to me…and in the middle of my…corrections, I had a feeling it would be overlooked when it was all done, all the bad people were dead, and Roman, known to the ones that matter as someone who could help the city…as just a coincidence. After all, Cauterize is dead now. Roman is very much alive. So he's not Cauterize…and there's no evidence he ever met or knew Cauterize. People have held office with worse things over his head, and when Roman starts helping this city, I'm sure people will learn to accept it as said coincidence. After all, what else could it be?"

"And Toby?"

"Ah Toby." Elijah said, as if he was discussing the weather. "He was the perfect fall guy. A runner, obsessed with regaining his old glory, parents who barely knew anything about him because he was so busy with his running, in a town that had crucified him for the sin of getting injured…it really was perfect."

"The workshop in his house?"

"I had that assembled and ready to go months before I started this. Once I grabbed Toby during one of his runs, it was just a matter of quickly assembling it in his basement when no one else was there. Same with the computer."

"And the diary?"

"When you can copy out someone's essays a hundred times in a minute, it's fairly easy to learn how to fake someone's handwriting."

"And you weren't worried someone would figure it out?"

"I didn't have a set agenda last night…but when I saw that truck, and I did see it coming, the idea just came to me. When I grabbed him, I had to replicate my injuries on his body, and I couldn't do that exactly, especially due to that damn alien's blood…so I made sure he was very carefully positioned. The truck erased the ability for them to tell details, and after everything I had put the Titans and this city through…I doubted anyone would look too closely."

"Well, aren't you clever."

"Flattery will get you nowhere Detective. Get to whatever point you want to make."

"Oh nothing…except Toby proves what I've been saying all along. You're no savior of this city. You're a cold-blooded psychopath."

"Oh?"

"You can try and justify the sins of the criminals you killed, of what Bialas and Tercero and Pierce did…but Toby was innocent…and you killed him. Not only that, you ensured he'd become infamous for what he supposedly did as well as drive his mother over the deep end. Heroes don't do that. People like you do. And it's not acceptable. That's why I became a cop, and that's why despite the vitriol you hold in your heart for them that we're going to be the ones to punish you for what you did. All the murders, but Toby's the most."

Elijah smirked again.

"You stupid, blind little man." Elijah said. "You think Toby was innocent?"

"What crimes did he commit?"

"The same crimes you looked the other way for with my stepfather. The crime of acting like a god by treating others like they were less then human."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You think Toby was just some poor innocent kid who I picked because he fit my profile of who people though Cauterize might be? You idiot. I may be a killer, but I'M not a monster. No. Toby thought he was the king of my school, thought that everyone should wait on him hand and foot just because he could run fast. And because people rewarded his accomplishments and didn't comment on his attitude, he thought what he did was perfectly right. Including treating me like shit. Myself and everyone else he thought deserved to be pushed around."

"Kids are nasty. It's part of growing up."

"Oh no Detective. You're wrong. There's a different between simple teasing and outright cruelty, and Toby was firmly on the other end. After all…it's not like the way my stepfather acted was a deep dark secret. People suspected and whispered about it. You would think that would convince a kid who was decent in his heart to not treat people like they were shit for giggles. But no. Toby pushed me around even more, it seemed. He took a very difficult period of my life and he made it hell…just because he thought it was oh so amusing. So no Detective. Toby was not an innocent victim. Toby was just like my stepfather Detective. He was MEAN. And he pushed and pushed and pushed without heeding the expression that for every reaction there is an equal and opposite reaction. So, after ten years of being pushed…I finally pushed back. He brought his fate on himself, and he deserves everything he gets now that people think he's Cauterize." Elijah said. Without the glasses, and the way he was talking, Chesbro got a brief glimpse as the carefully constructed façade of coolness and necessity Elijah kept on his front slip slightly, the intense and furious hatred that acted as the fuel for his actions viewable for just a second before it was shoved back into the construct that Elijah had constructed for it.

"You're sick." Chesbro said.

"Maybe…but this city was sicker. But not any more Detective Chesbro. It's finally over. The dark ages are done. It's time for our personal Renaissance. Stephen Pierce is gone, his empire in ashes and the criminal element too scattered and broken to take advantage of it. His bootlicks Tercero and Bialas are freezing in the Ninth Circle, while Roman and your mentor Turnquist are ready to claim their positions and redeem them. Roman will bring in work for the rebuilding of the plants, not to mention several other ideas, and your mentor will clean out the corruption in your department and bring crime back down to where it once was, and maybe, once those clouds are gone, and our moon shines again…people will remember this city, and come back. We're on the cusp of this being a nice town again Detective…for everyone, and especially for my mother, who might finally be able to chase her own dreams instead of bearing the brunt of other's. But it all hinges on one important detail Detective: Cauterize is dead. His plans may have succeeded but he died carrying them out. It's over. But if you come forward with me and reveal all I have told you…it could all fall apart. Come Detective. You've lamented that your city was going to hell. Well, the descent has stopped. Now…do you want to put it in freefall again?"

Silence.

"No." Chesbro said.

Elijah smiled slightly.

"But I'm not letting you go either. Get up and turn around."

Elijah's face fell.

"You look surprised. You know Cauterize, for all your studying and observations, you don't know me very well. I won't sell my soul to get out of hell, and I won't let you walk away. I don't care why you did it Elijah. Murder is murder, and in this society, you have to be punished for it, no matter why you did it. Now get up."

Elijah shook his head.

"Ah Detective…holding onto your moral high ground even though the foolishness of it is staring you in the face…but then again, I'm not really surprised. You intelligence was always rather selective. I mean, here you are, having found the man behind the curtain…without ever realizing the key part of keeping that curtain closed."

Chesbro frowned, confused for the first time.

"What does that mean?"

"Detective…I framed Toby as Cauterize…but that requires one certain thing…and that is…Cauterize had to die…and in order for him to die, people had to think he was beatable. And to make sure that people thought that that was possible…" Elijah said, and left it at that.

Chesbro stared.

And then his guts turned to ice as he realized what Elijah was saying, and he began to issue a mental command…

Which he thankfully was able to stop, as Elijah was suddenly behind him, one thin but very strong arm wrapped around his throat as the other had grabbed his gun hand and changed its direction so it was pointing to his temple. Chesbro gasped slightly, started to move…and then stopped, knowing it was pointless.

"What's wrong Detective? Feeling tired?" Elijah spoke into his ear. "There's a certain advantage of using the Speed Force detective. It's not like steroids or growth hormones: it doesn't leave residue that can be traced after death. That's another reason people will think Toby was Cauterize…because his body certainly fits the role, and considering that he was always running around, not to mention his "missions"…no wonder he was worn out, constantly having to stop for breath, more and more as time went on…until he finally grew so exhausted that it lead to his death. Certainly speaks of a person who ran ahead without thinking his tasks through enough, doesn't it?" Elijah said. "Tired, Detective? I've been preparing myself for this week for the better part of six years. I've been training myself for at least two hours EVERY DAY. You ever wonder where I was getting all the stuff I needed for my plan, Detective? How I could make such efficient cuts in my targets? How I could build a helmet and special gauntlets and bombs? It was training, detective, years of it, zipping all over the world, taking a little here, a little there…and most of all, learning my limits, how to overcome them, then overcoming my new limits, again, and again. You think all the stuff I did this week wore me out to the point I couldn't even muster a brief boost to get over here before you shot? Detective, all that happened this week…I barely broke A SWEAT."

"You're lying. Dozens of people saw you…"

"What, breathing hard? Gasping for air? Having to stop more and more? You're not listening Detective. My plan always ended with the death of Cauterize, and for him to die people had to think he was fallible. I had a feeling metahumans would get involved as well…so I started laying the groundwork the second I began. The hyperventilating, slowing down, so called fatigue? It was all an act Detective. From the beginning, even for people who wouldn't notice it. I had to make sure people thought that Cauterize could be touched…that he could be brought down…one way or another, and for it to seem gradual, instead of suddenly coming out of nowhere, a sign of fakery. But the ironic thing Detective, is that ALL of it was fake. The truth is, Detective…the killing, the fighting, all the stuff I did…I wasn't giving HALF of what I was capable of. I was never tired Detective, not in the least. It was like faking an orgasm with women: how can you really tell the difference?"

"You won't get away with this. I figured you out. Others will."

"Oh I doubt it Detective. The Teen Titans are far too eager to get home, getting an ass whipping and then such a terrible moral failing as letting your foe get killed before you can take him in will make you long for such things. Light City is only too eager to move forward and start forgetting this week. And as I mentioned, it's not like Toby will be found to be lacking a something or other that showed he hadn't tapped the Speed Force. So as far as everyone else knows Detective, Cauterize is dead…everyone except you and me."

"You can't kill me. I'm not a criminal. I'm not even a bully like Toby. Kill me and you WILL be a murderer. It showed in the fact that despite your hatred of my profession, you never killed a cop."

"True…but as you mentioned Detective…heh, or maybe I should just say Chesbro…you're not a cop any more."

"That's a excuse and you know it Elijah. Just like you brainwashing that girl and calling it love, and you murdering hundreds and calling it necessary."

"Perhaps…but this was never about Kei Chesbro. It wasn't even about the city. Not mainly. This was for my mother, for every bit of pain she had to endure, every bit of torture this goddamn city has inflicted on her whether it's driving away my father, the atrocities of my stepfather, or her losing her job because Stephen Pierce is throwing a temper tantrum, every time her happiness, peace of mind, and sense of being was stepped on by this goddamn world. I won't let this world define her existence any more. Now I choose what happens to her, and I say, the rest of her life, she wants for nothing, and finds everything she wanted. Maybe I can find an lovely China doll to appreciate my special qualities, and maybe this is a nice town again, but above all ELSE, my mother will be HAPPY." Elijah said, and in his voice Chesbro heard the echoes of every champion who tried to take the holy land back from so called infidels, every soldier who went off to die for the sake of the purifying of the human race, and every terrorist who blew themselves up thinking that it would allow them to strike at a great evil and get into paradise.

It was a crusader's voice, and heaven help anyone who got in its way.

"And for that to happen…there has to be one more death detective. Yours." Elijah said. "But don't worry. I'm not cruel. You've seen that those who have mastered the Speed Force can do more then run on walls and make tornadoes Chesbro. I can do more then make people suggestible Chesbro. I can also accelerate certain things…like tissue decay…so that it looks older then it really is. True, it can be detected…if you happen to be examining the body on the Watchtower. Besides that, well…" Elijah said, as he tightened his grip even more. In the back of his head, one more connection was made in Chesbro's mind: Elijah's bulky, very loose clothes. Elijah had told the Titans that it was because his mom couldn't afford new clothes so he had to wear his hated stepfather's old ones…but that was the cover. The clothes were really to disguise the incredible body Elijah had acquired preparing himself for his quest, the body that was clearly revealed in Cauterize's skintight outfit, and a body that had a great strength that, along with his speed, was holding Chesbro fast.

"It will be quick Detective. I'll pierce your brain stem. You won't feel a thing. And the police department will get a call from an "anonymous source" that they saw some kind of digging going on in the backyard of the Garigen house last night. No one has seen you since you left the department last night Detective. I know: I went around today, hiding in the shadows, to check on things to make sure the end stages of my plan hadn't hit any snags. The police who come will find loose soil somewhere in the backyard…under which they will find your body. Apparently, you figured out who Cauterize was, and went to confront him yourself. Not the smartest thing, but you had just been fired, you were probably upset, you could use a way to get your job back…and you just don't much like metahumans. You found him, but he killed you, and buried your body before he went off to his final battle. The whole department will mourn you. You'll be given a hero's funeral, and people will use you as an example of a good cop, even after everything that's happened to you. Now…isn't that a good way to die?"

"You don't have to kill me. You could just use your finger thing to erase my memory." Chesbro said. He wasn't asking for mercy: he expected none, but if he was going to die, he was going to make sure that Elijah Versaw knew what he was doing: cold-blooded murder.

It wasn't a chuckle, so much, that Elijah made. There was some amusement in the sound, but there was also realization that Chesbro was right…and a dismissive quality that told Chesbro, perhaps even more then his previous tone, that Elijah Versaw had long ago forgotten about true mercy. Mercy that served his ends, maybe…but the rest had died, probably at the same time he saw his mother being brutalized by William Versaw.

"Maybe…but there's one last thing Detective…" Elijah said, and suddenly Chesbro felt a powerful yank as his gun was pulled out of his hands and tossed to the floor, even as a flash of light reflecting off something caught Chesbro's eyes. A butterfly knife was now in the hand that Elijah had used to hold his gun to his temple. In normal situations, Chesbro would have struggled, but in this case, he knew it was pointless: Elijah would immediately slip into a Speed Force state the instant he sensed any trouble and readjust his position so he could hang on.

"You threatened everything I just built, all out of some misguided sense of righteousness. It's probably the same thing, in a way, that Battlin' Bill used as his justification of beating my mother. You speak of punishing me…no, for threatening what I made for her, Chesbro, you have to be punished. You don't strike me as a religious type…but if I was wrong in my assessment, you had best make your peace with whatever god you have. And know that I don't really want to do this…but like this city, it had to be done. One last death. Goodbye, Detective Chesbro."

Elijah twirled the knife so it was facing down as he brought it behind Chesbro's head.

And the vibration rippled through the floor.

Elijah stopped. He blinked.

And Chesbro smirked.

"Looks like you were wrong in your assessment somewhere else."

The entire wall exploded inward, debris pelting Chesbro and Elijah as the teenager reared away, shielding himself as a frustrated scream tore from his throat, smoke blooming from the damage as he and Chesbro were smacked by the shockwaves and thrown to the ground. Chesbro spied his gun and scrambled over to it…

A fist thudded into the back of his head, and Chesbro's forehead slammed into the ground, the world spinning as he once again lost consciousness. Elijah rolled away as one last shower of debris came down and stopped, glaring at the smoke as figures appeared in it…

"Elijah…" Savior said.

When Chesbro had appeared, Elijah's expression had shown annoyance at best. Not this time, as the four Titans began emerging from the smoke, Elijah's face was contorted into an expression of intense rage.

As the Titans stepped in…having deduced the same thing Chesbro had. And they hadn't need a forgotten memory of seeing Elijah at a police picnic to make the connections Chesbro had. No. For Noel and Co, it had come when Beast Boy and Terra had found William Versaw's name in their file folder, and followed it to show next of kin…that included stepson Elijah Versaw. That had been part of it, but what had sealed it for Noel was when it was combined with the paper he had found, a copy of the _Light City Shining_, Elijah's school newspaper, with a front page story of having an interview with the mayor. It was postdated about six months…the exact amount of time, Savior remembered, that Roman Fernendez, a puppet of the Speed Force commanding teenager, had been making his war room. And just like Chesbro, once they finally saw the forest for the trees, the connections started coming fast and furious, as Terra, having forgotten it originally, remembered where she had seen, or rather smelled, the glue that had been stuck on the bomb that had nearly made her go boom: the science lab at Light City High, even as Savior remembered that when Toby Garigen had slammed open the door, Elijah had claimed it had mostly struck his foot…even though Savior could have sworn Elijah was leaning forward and it had hit his torso with more impact…specifically, his right wrist.

The rest was icing, and despite all that it meant, the Titans knew what they had to do, as they had made tracks for Elijah Versaw's house. Originally they had planned a more quiet entrance, but when a scouting Beast Boy had seen Elijah about to kill Chesbro, they had opted for a quicker, messier access.

And now they were in, as Elijah glared at them, and Savior, much like Chesbro, saw the eyes that had been looking at him when Savior had managed to smash his helmet.

"Elijah…you've got a lot to answer for." Terra said, as rocks floated next to her.

Elijah's expression twisted, as anger flared up, and then was shoved back down as it was replaced by…pity?

"Why couldn't you just leave dead well enough ALONE?" Elijah snapped.

The Titans went exploding out from the hole as Elijah blitzed forward and slammed into them with four resounding blows. Unfortunately, the Titans hadn't arrived like Chesbro and hadn't been able to overhear conversation like him. It would have been useful for them to know that Elijah had been faking his exhaustion and been fighting them at less then half power during their previous two fights, but it was too late for that now, as Terra crashed into a car windshield in the driveway of the house opposite the Versaw house, even as the three males just crashed into the house itself.

Elijah reappeared in his house, snorted, and then went over to Kei. The Titans would take a little bit to get up, as Elijah picked Kei up and zipped down to the basement, placing her on a cot there. With that, Elijah zipped upstairs, leaving Chesbro where he lay…

And stopped as the door to his mother's room opened, and his mother, Caroline Versaw, walked out, her eyes still heavy with sleep but also filled with fear at the terrible noise that had managed to wake her up from her sedative-caused rest.

"Elijah? What's going on? Elijah…?" she asked, confused.

"Shhhhhhhh…" Elijah said, as he stepped into his mother's arm, holding her tightly to comfort her. "It's ok Mom. I'll handle it."

"But Elijah…"

"I'll be ok." Elijah said, as he raised his right hand carefully placed two fingers on his mother's head. "Go back to sleep."

Caroline Versaw immediately fell asleep, and Elijah carefully picked her up and zipped back to the basement. The ceiling was heavily, HEAVILY reinforced: even if the house totally collapsed the two women would be safe in there. Elijah laid his mother down, brushed her hair, and gave her a brief kiss on the forehead.

Then he turned away, as his body tensed up and prepared for combat, even as he disappeared from the basement. He re-appeared in his room, walking up to his closet and opening it up, pulling open the hidden door in the back to reveal where he kept his gear.

"Dammit…" Savior said, as he staggered out of the house, as lights went on and people began waking up at the racket. "The bastard…"

"Is here." Said a voice behind Savior's ear.

Savior managed to turn around, but that was all he could do as Elijah's foot slashed out and slammed into his ankle, sending his legs flying out to the side as Elijah, dressed up in the red and black costume, slashed his arm up at super speed and smashed Savior through the living room window of another house. Beast Boy emerged, turning into a Triceratops, but he didn't even get to move as Elijah threw his helmet up into the air, zapped forward, and smashed both his fists into Beast Boy's bony head, the force so great it sent the huge dinosaur tumbling across the road.

"You just HAD to come here, didn't you?" Elijah declared as he approached Terra, who was trying to recover her senses. "The city was finally better, the vigilante was dead, and your duties were finished. You could have just gone home, but NOOOOOO!" Elijah snarled, and hurled his helmet at Terra, the heavy head covering klonking into her face and sending her staggering back with a cry, even as Elijah zipped over to catch his helmet in mid-fall, stopping next to the still stumbling Terra to do it, and then viciously backhanding her, sending her flying into the same house her three male companions had just rudely entered and nearly knocking the whole family who had gathered downstairs to see what the racket was over like bowling pins.

"You just had to keep digging, finding out stuff that everyone would have been far happier not knowing, and here you are, wanting to pick another fight. Then again, that's pretty much damn par for the course for you goddamn hypocrites, isn't it?"

Roaring, Scalpel leapt at Elijah, swinging his glaive.

Elijah snapped up his arm, grabbed the glaive by the shaft, absorbed the kinetic energy of the slash, and re-routed it in a very specific direction as he swung his arm around, the instantaneous alteration of the power acting much like super strength as he sent Scalpel flying through the air and crashing through the roof and into the attic of another house.

"Where are you when my stepfather is beating my mother black and blue? Where are you when my city is becoming a crime-infested hellhole lorded over by would be kings? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU WHEN OUR DAY NEEDS TO BE SAVED? NOWHERE! But the second, someone finally decides that something has to be done, no matter the cost, there you finally turn up, the proverbial bad pennies!"

Savior landed in front of Elijah. Elijah regarded him as if he was a pothole that should be avoided.

"Elijah…it doesn't…" Savior started.

"Yes, it does." Elijah said, and blitzed at Savior, kicking him in the face before he could even begin to process the thought that he needed to mount a defense, sending the hero flying backwards in a bone-breaking twirl. The white garbed teen finally slid to a stop near Beast Boy.

"I wanted the death to end. Despite what some people may think, doing these things isn't pleasant or easy, you know." Elijah said.

Terra swooped down from the sky on a rock, raising her arms. Elijah's free arm, the other holding his helmet, blurred as Elijah made a few thousand precise gestures in the space of half a second, the end result being an extremely powerful blast of wind that slammed into Terra, knocking her right off her rock and sending her tumbling down the street to join her two friends.

"But…it looks like, despite my best efforts, I still have a few more graves to dig. So be it." Elijah said, as he lifted his helmet up.

Scalpel exploded from the attic in a shower of wood, bellowing a Blacktrinian battle cry as he fell down towards the ground…

Elijah zipped over and phased his hand right into the spot Scalpel was going to land. The alien landed, and then bellowed as the ground exploded under him, sending him across the street and making Elijah's toss record four for four as he landed near his comrades.

"Too bad really. The world probably needs you. But I don't." Elijah said, as he went back to putting his helmet on, slipping it over his head, and then closing the visor shut and locking it in.

Groaning, the four Titans tried to get up, as Elijah vanished and reappeared in front of them, and he wasn't empty handed. In his hand were two new swords, three times as long as the previous ones and more katana like in design, both in sheathes.

"Like them? Original design for my weapons. Decided they were too bulky and went with the more streamlined ones. Though I'd have no more use for them…but I held onto them…and it's a damn good thing." Elijah said, as he unsheathed both swords and tossed the blade holders aside as he transferred a blade to each hand. They were just like his previous ones, black with gold trimming, and carefully sharpened: you never knew when you could need something.

"Elijah…" Savior said as he tried to get up, his teammates trying to follow.

"No begging for mercy now. You decided to keep poking your nose where it didn't belong, and now it's going to cost you your head."

"…Self righteous little…" Savior said, raising his arms.

"Oh what's this, are we trying to FIGHT?"

Elijah tossed the swords into the air, and then Savior and the other were suddenly assaulted by a furious barrage of punches and kicks that bombarded the four teens for three seconds before they stopped. The group collapsed, as Elijah reappeared, leaning up and catching his swords.

"Fight me?" Elijah Versaw, aka Cauterize said, as he raised his right arm, the black blade glimmering from a streetlight. "You can't fight me Titans. You can't even begin to KEEP UP."

"No."

Behind the helmet, Cauterize arched an eyebrow, and then turned at the voice…and for the first time…he realized that he was in trouble.

Because Savior hadn't been kidding when he had said they couldn't win. So Savior had done the only thing he could.

Called in backup.

As Cauterize looked at the figure standing on an upturned car, his arms crossed, his yellow and red outfit ending in twin red jagged prongs sweeping back from his head, the costume cutting off at the top to show a newly trimmed but still rather shaggy mop of red hair, and a pair of determined eyes that reflected in the black glass of Cauterize's helmet.

"But I can." Said Kid Flash.

(Writer's Note: Oh I'm sorry. Did I say to be concluded last chapter? Did I give the indication that the story would be ending here? Oops. I LIED.)


	9. The Last Run

Part 9: The Last Run

Scalpel wasn't sure what had happened.

He had been blown across the street, then beaten up by Cauterize (again) and as he was trying to get his brain back in order he had heard the voice speak, the voice of the ally that Savior had called and asked to keep out of sight until he was needed…which was later then Scalpel preferred, really. And while he could hear the voice, he couldn't really make out the details of the words, as his brain was a tad bit scrambled from being punched in the face a few hundred times. But he was a Blacktrianian, he was tough, and he was swiftly recovering, his vision clearing, as he rolled over and got up…

And found that he was alone with his allies.

Cauterize was gone.

So was Kid Flash.

He blinked, opened his mouth, and then closed it again, as he glanced at his three teammates, Terra helping a still very woozy Beast Boy up, while Savior wiped the blood from his nose. It was clear the other three shared his confusion.

"Where did they go?" Terra was the first to ask.

"Not sure." Savior replied. "Speed Force users can be…"

And then the boom came out of nowhere, a tremendous ear-splitting bang that caused all the Titans to clamp their hands over their ears and nearly caused hearing sensitive Scalpel to have a seizure.

"Owwwwwwwwwwww. What was that?" Beast Boy groaned.

"Sonic boom." Savior replied, finally having an vague idea where Cauterize and Kid Flash were. He had most likely just witnessed something similar to a thunderstorm. Lightning always came first, followed by the thunder, because light went so much faster then sound.

That sonic boom had been the sound of Kid Flash and Cauterize…doing what?

That Savior didn't know, but he knew that his called ally was the last chance of bringing Elijah Versaw to justice. Most people tended not to realize just how powerful skilled Speed Force users were. Wally West, the current Flash, was known more for his joking, semi lackadaisical manner then his membership on the Justice League, but when he wasn't with the League, Wally was the defender of Keystone and Central City, two blue-collar towns connected by a bridge. And what a lot of normal people didn't realize was that when he was with the League, Wally tended to dial down what he could do, as he was part of a team and you had to work to be part of a team, which meant no showboating and such. But alone…the Flashes of history had had a select group of villains that were considered almost exclusively "theirs", almost like a union, known as the Rogues. And The Flash had a lot of Rogues, with a wide variety of powers. And Wally had stood alone against them, more often then not, and won. Most people just assumed the Flash could run fast. No, the Flash could do far more then that…if he could think of it. That was the downside of the Speed Force: it could make people incredibly impatient. Impatient people tended to rush forward and do what immediately occured to them rather then think it out. It was the reason behind Kid Flash's former name of Impulse: he tended to do everything ON impulse.

But Elijah wasn't like that. Elijah was patient. Elijah had brains and imagination. Elijah was the type who had taken the time to discover the Speed Force could do more then just let you run fast.

And against something like that…only one thing could really work. Another Speed Force user.

Even so, Savior wished Kid Flash luck.

He was going to need it.

* * *

To truly understand this battle, you have to understand just what the Speed Force does to you. Then again, that in a way is impossible, as only someone who had tapped the Speed Force can truly describe it. But we will try. 

As mentioned, the Speed Force wasn't so much the power of making yourself really fast so much as it was making the world and everything around you really really slow. The more you tapped the power, the slower things went for you…until the point where everything seemed permanently frozen, a second having become an eternity.

But…the point of this power was that while everything was frozen to you, you still moved at a semi-normal speed in this state. Which had its advantages. Certain laws of physics became nonexistent in this realm. You could walk on water because it had become as solid as rock. You could step and walk up walls and ceilings because gravity no longer had time to claim you. And once you mastered certain abilities of the Speed Force power, you no longer had to worry about friction because you moved so fast the air never had time to register your presence. Of course, in order to do this, you had to learn some tricks of your own. Like taking a breath beforehand because breathing in these states could be problematic. But the human body could adapt. It was marvelously malleable at times.

But that was just ONE point of the power. You could go deeper, you could open the throttle even more…and it was THEN that you truly became superfast, as your speed increased even more while the world remained in its frozen state. Which was useful, for while you could easily jog from one end of the United States to the other while in a Speed Force State, time frozen and your body never getting tired because of the manipulations of the energy…time still stayed the same for YOU, and not many people had the patience to spend a month running across a country. No, for the ultra quick trips…you had to go deeper. Then you could cross the world in the blink of an eye, and more.

But there was a brand new set of dangers involved in doing this, as you had to thoroughly and exhaustively retrain your reflexes and perception, because the faster you went, the less time you had to react…and if you ran into something while in that deeper state…well, you would get the other side of the sword from the world of altered physics you existed in. If you run into or even brush something while going at a good human speed, you might give yourself a nasty bruise. Do it while going at several thousand miles a second, you could very well shatter yourself into your component atoms. Not to mention that you had to use the energy properly so you didn't grind your joints into dust within a minute due to them making hundreds or thousands of rotations in a second. And be on the lookout for things that could disrupt your concentration: abrupt shifts in the use of the Speed Force rarely resulted in anything good. And be careful not to screw up the use of the energy so that it made your heart beat so fast it exploded or expanded your lungs so fast they popped. And…well, let's just say that if a moron found the power to tap the Speed Force, he probably wouldn't live very long.

And that's not even mentioning all the little tricks one had to learn about being a Speed Force user (like how to talk to people in said state, a tricky issue as one had to basically keep one's vocal cords in one state and the rest of one's body in the rest, or else if you wanted to talk to people it would come out so fast you would sound like a Chipmunk, or maybe that joke in Family Guy where Peter said he could recite all 50 states in a quarter of a second and then just made a loud yelping noise that was supposed to be that accomplishment…in any case, that is why no one heard the following conversations: the speed was so high that the sentences were reduced to sounds as brief as Peter's fifty states yelp, or so short that people weren't even aware they had heard them)…but suffice to say…when it came to mastery of their talent, neither side in this confrontation could be said to be any less then exceptional.

Which side was more so…was yet to be revealed.

In the conversation we left a few pages back, Scalpel was opening his mouth in the very beginning of his realization that Cauterize and Kid Flash had seemingly disappeared.

But they had not disappeared. In fact, they were almost in the exact same spot they had been before.

Not that Scalpel, or any of the Titans' eyes could see them.

You see, as mentioned, Scalpel was just beginning to open his mouth…and in this state we now see, he appeared to be locked in that motion, his lips just beginning to part. If one stood still and watched his mouth in this state, Scalpel might have actually completed the motion…after about a day or so.

Just to give you an idea of the speed.

After Kid Flash had spoken, the two Speed Force users had looked at each other for about another second of normal, human time…and then around them, everything began to slow…and slow…and slow…

And then Cauterize was right next to Kid Flash, slashing out a sword.

Through the spot where Kid Flash's head had been. To the Titans this was so fast not only did the Titans not see it the general area didn't even register it had happened. As I mentioned, swinging a sword so quick it ignites the air is fast. Swinging a sword so quick the air never even knows its there…that's **_FAST._**

And even at this peak of velocity…we do not see Kid Flash's head move. One moment, a moment so small even most advanced supercomputers would have trouble properly measuring it, his head is where it is…and then the next moment it is somewhere else, away from the blade, and his eyes slightly narrowed.

Cauterize's expression is more vague due to the helmet, but we, the esteemed viewers of this battle…could probably just make out a very small curling of his mouth.

And then the positions suddenly change again, instantly. Now Cauterize is arcing downward a bit, the arm holding his other sword now pointing it towards the ground, the area where Kid Flash had just been having been subjected to a mighty cleave…but it hit nothing, as Kid Flash is now in another position himself, about one and a half steps back, one leg slightly off the ground in the curled stance of interrupted movement, as the two share another look.

Blur. Cauterize reappeared, his first sword stabbed out where Kid Flash's head had just been, said head now cocked a bit to the side to get away from the blade. Kid Flash looked grave.

And Cauterize looks strangely…amused.

And then the onslaught began, as Cauterize began slashing like a madman, his body disappearing in a blur, hundreds, thousands of slashes (though come to think of it, if we can see them like this, Cauterize has actually SLOWED DOWN). It was the same Ginsu treatment that Cauterize had subjected the Pranker to, and we all remember what happened there. But the Pranker was just a nut in makeup. Kid Flash is not, and as a result his own body is a blur as well, dodging, ducking, and slipping away from every single slice and dice. The two forms move slowly (in this state, anyway) back down the street. How many attacks does Cauterize make all together? It could be measured in the millions.

What matters, in the end, is that none of them connect, and as Cauterize slashes both swords in an X shape, the blow dodged as Kid Flash jumps back, ever so slightly, and the vigilante looks up at the yellow costumed teen as he is still in the air, and he knows.

Kid Flash lands, and then the tide has turned, as he blitzes forward and begins firing off punches and kicks, in the same style Cauterize had just utilized, as Cauterize completed the role reversal, though he does far more blocking then dodging, catching the blows on his swords' flats and hilts, Kid Flash too alert to actually punch the blades, the battle going back the way it had just gone, the orange blur meeting the red and black blur, neither side giving an inch, as Kid Flash attacked and attacked and attacked and found that Cauterize's guard was as seemingly impenetrable as his, as he fired off his latest blow, an uppercut…

And found nothing there, as Cauterize was again mimicking his move and jumping backward, just a bit, just a tad, except he was not turning the tables back the same way it had been before, and Kid Flash knew it, as he stopped and jumped back himself, and the two Speed Force users each made a few more small leaps, putting some distance between them.

And then they lanced at each other, two beams of light streaking forward and colliding. To us, we see a gigantic, brilliant flash of light as they collide. To the Titans, they see a very brief flicker that none of them even notice.

The two blur back into reality on the opposite sides of where they had just been. There they stopped.

They stood for a bit.

And then they turned, looking at one another.

Kid Flash's costume split open at the right shoulder and side.

And blood began to trickle from Cauterize's suddenly open upper lip.

For a moment, in their own special time, the two continued to stare.

Cauterize slowly raised a blade…and then loosened his hand, letting the sword drop and slip downward to face the ground before the helmeted speedster tightened his grip again, and then he felt along his split lip and looked at the blood on his finger.

Kid Flash arched an eyebrow, as if confirming that yes, he did that.

"…Heh." Cauterize said. "Not bad."

And then Cauterize again pressed his finger against his lip, and a brief but insane period of acceleration followed, as Cauterize sped up his own tissue growth and knitted his lip back together.

"Not bad yourself." Kid Flash replied at this.

The two blazed at each other again, and we see a brief moment of Kid Flash dodging away from a double slash from Cauterize, and then a blur again, interrupted only by a succinct image of Cauterize ducking under a Kid Flash punch…and then they were off, as twin blurs of color shot all over the suburban neighborhood, unseen to all for they moved at a speed optical nerves could not process.

Perhaps it might have amused Terra if she knew that as her mouth was moving to form the word "Where", Cauterize and Kid Flash had already run past and around her several thousand times, as the two ran and dashed and spun and circled and zipped and zapped, each trying to hit the other and failing, our selves seeing occasional glimpses of a blade dodged around, or a kick slipped away from, or a punch blocked via another limb before the blocker slipped away to prevent another blow from being thrown.

In the space of a second, a war.

That ended when the two stopped, several streets away…and then both slipped out of the Speed Force state, returning to the real world.

Even as the Titans got another huge shock, as almost simultaneously everywhere the world seemed to go nuts. Slashes suddenly materialized in all kinds of places: grass lawns, house walls, the concrete road, the sides of cars, rooftops, everywhere. Windows and other glass and fragile partitions all suddenly shattered as once, the blows that had broken them well spaced about in one state of existence but not in this state. Car tires blew, doors fell off, dents appeared in the metal. A few cars exploded. Sheds and barbeques fell apart, sliced to pieces by seemingly invisible blades. No less then three streetlights suddenly keeled over, their light bulbs shattering upon the ground as their metal bases had been sliced clean through.

All the Titans could do was mostly gasp and react in fear to this craziness. Cauterize and Kid Flash ignored it, just looking at each other as the suburb around them fell apart.

Kid Flash cocked his head.

And Cauterize, though his helmet hid the movement of his eyes, glanced around a tad…and then he frowned as sounds of confusion, anger, fear and likewise began coming from all the houses around them, as the residents of Light City began waking up to this conflict.

The frown deepened.

Then his form blurred, and then refocused within a second.

And in that second all the human noise stopped, cut off like a switch. Kid Flash's eyes widened at this: did he actually…?

"Moved them all out of the way." Cauterize said. Kid Flash relaxed.

"So…want to actually give up now, slowpoke?" The red hair teen taunted.

Cauterize just smirked.

And then his arms became a blur again as Cauterize brought his swords up and did a series of precise motions that manipulated the wind and fired it off in Kid Flash's direction like a blade, the wind altered into such a state it could slice through steel, much less flesh and blood.

Kid Flash dodged it.

But that attack was not the move itself. It was just the beginning, as Cauterize threw open the throttle and his arms blurred around him, and dozens upon dozen of wind blades fired off at Kid Flash, slicing through everything in their way.

The Titans were just recovering from the shock of watching all of Kid Flash/Cauterize's actions finally happen (in their perception anyway) when another loud noise sounded off in the distance.

"What the…" Savior said, but even as he spoke Terra had yanked a chunk of concrete out of the ground under her and was rising up to take a look, as Savior tossed up a Shimmer strand and pulled himself up to see what was making the noise as well. It was pretty obvious: off in the distance, houses were collapsing, explosions ringing through the air as gas and propane tanks blew.

"THERE!" Savior yelled, as he reached down and scooped up Scalpel, as Beast Boy became an eagle and flew up, and the four started heading over to the battle site, even as more destruction erupted from the area.

And in said area, Cauterize finally stopped, as the houses around him sagged, and one actually collapsed. Dust plumed out, enveloping the teen.

A quick blast of wind, this kind not altered to cut, quickly blew it away…revealing Kid Flash standing before Cauterize, his feet balancing on the multitude of lines Cauterize had carved into the street below him, his arms crossed and his expression amused.

"Come on." Kid Flash said.

We don't see the trip: we just see the slash as Cauterize dashed over to Kid Flash and sliced for his head, and the dodge as Kid Flash zipped away and then back in and around, thrusting a foot at Cauterize's back, but Cauterize dodged that, leaping into the air in a backflip and slashing his sword while upside down at Kid Flash's chest, a slash dodged around again as Kid Flash moved towards Cauterize's front and snapped off a right hook, a hook stopped by the flat of Cauterize's other sword as he landed and slashed his first sword down, trying to cleave Kid Flash in half; Kid Flash spun away from the attack, at the same time swinging out his fist in a backhand, even as Cauterize blended his attack into his defense, ducking down under the spinning blow, even as he twists the sword in his other hand, drawing the blade away, because the area is too small for a proper blow with his sword but there's just enough room for his fist…

As one of the two finally proves to be too slow, as Cauterize rammed his fist into Kid Flash's gut.

The wave of force from the blow, to the Titans, nearly knocks them all over, as the two drop out of their Speed Force state, Kid Flash sliding backwards across the carved up street like it was as slick as ice, stopping just as his body finally registered the blow, the air forced out of his lungs, as Kid Flash fell on one knee with a gasp, breathing hard.

Slowly, Cauterize stood up from his kneeling position, readjusting his swords, as he looked upon his foe.

"Is that on enough?" He replied.

* * *

_His name is Elijah Versaw._

_He is the son of a foolish weak dreamer and a woman who had been cursed to bear the brunt of other's sins and failings. For those failings, he sought out a solution. When he found it, he planned it out down to the minutest detail. For it, he slew hundreds and felt nothing. And why would he? They were human scum, parasites who fed on human misery, his mothers' included. He did this because there was no other way. No law or so-called hero could help his city any more. It had sank too deep for that, the rot burrowed into the very heart of the once happy and prosperous town. It needed to be cut out by the roots._

_He was that blade._

_And he wasn't going to let others decide that his choices had been bad. It was their choices that forced his. He would not be punished by their failings._

_No matter what._

_He is Elijah Versaw, he is Cauterize, a master of the Speed Force._

_He knew how to run.

* * *

_

"Surely child…" Cauterize said to the still recovering Kid Flash…

As he disappeared. To the still approaching Titans, they never saw the change in position: as before, one moment Kid Flash was on one knee and Cauterize was in front of him.

And the next Cauterize was behind Kid Flash, having yanked him back to his feet, his sword at the yellow clad teen's throat.

"You don't suspect that I was giving it my all in these beginning moments." Cauterize said.

Kid Flash didn't reply.

As a brief blur of color occurred…and suddenly the positions were reversed, Kid Flash now behind Cauterize, his arm wrapped around the vigilante's throat, and though his helmet hid it, Cauterize's eyes widened.

"Surely, killer, you don't suspect the only reason you touched me is because I let you." Kid Flash said.

Cauterize let his action serve as his reply, as he lanced an elbow back at Kid Flash's face, Kid Flash blurring away and slashing off a roundhouse side kick, a kick Cauterize blocked with his other arm, as he stabbed his still held sword at Kid Flash's throat, as Kid Flash dodged that, ducked around Cauterize's side, and fired off a punch to his kidneys, a blow that brushed off Cauterize's body as he both spun away and slashed the sword held in his right hand in a decapitating move towards Kid Flash's head, a blow Kid Flash did a Matrix dodge away from and then snapped back up as he fired off a punch towards Cauterize's face…as Cauterize finished his spin, having twisted his sword downward again, as he punched with his left hand.

End result: the two punched each other in the face at the same time.

The blow rang out through the air, as both sides staggered back, Kid Flash clutching the side of his face, Cauterize doing the same to his helmet.

A long crack ran along the dark glass.

"Heh." Kid Flash said.

"Hmmmmm." Cauterize replied, as the Titans finally closed in.

And then the two Speed Force users were gone.

The Titans stopped dead.

"Now where did they…" Savior began.

A loud bang sounded off in the distance, towards the city, and the Titans all looked in that direction. But no sooner had they started turning towards the sound then another boom sounded in a completely different direction: closer and about 140 degrees to the Titans's right. They just got to look in that direction when another boom sounded behind them.

"Terra, go higher!" Savior ordered, and Terra obeyed, flying up higher and higher until they got a bird's eye view of the city.

And the four Titans couldn't help but stare as two streaks of color twisted and turned and flew all over the streets, suburbs, and outsides of Light City, zipping around the mass so quickly the Titans had trouble following them with their eyes, as Cauterize and Kid Flash fought in a battle that was about 2 parts fighting and 8 parts race, for no good Speed Force user could ever really resist turning a fight, man's oldest sport, with a fellow into a race, man's second oldest sport, as the two dashed and zapped all over and around Light City.

Impulse dodged a twin downward arced slashed on Stephen Pierce's lawn.

Cauterize ducked away from a punch on the steps of Light City's closed mint.

Impulse leapt away from a stab on the track of Light City High.

Crossed swords blocked a kick next to the demolished smokestack in the Light City chemical plants.

A slick twist avoided an upward slash in the cornfields outside Light City.

A right hook to the face was avoided on top of the building that had been used to launch Geoffrey Tercero to his doom.

And twin beams of blazing color zapped down either side of said building, crossed back and forth several times across the face of Light City several times, and then met dead center in Light City's center, a giant wave of force slamming out as the twin beams collided, knocking down everything that wasn't nailed down, including people and some cars.

The two speedsters were revealed, Cauterize's swords crossed in front of him, Kid Flash holding onto their hilts, as both struggled to shove the weapons towards their target and away from their being, a struggle that was getting nowhere, as the two stared at each other and the Titans stared from above.

"Not enough room here." Kid Flash said.

"Agreed." Cauterize replied.

The two broke apart, and then collided in a massive blur of slashes, punches, kicks, and strikes, a war of blows that sent off a giant windstorm in the street, blowing more stuff over, and then, just before the Titans began to drop down to help, the two disappeared, twin streaks of color blitzing off in one direction, running off into the horizon so fast two of the Titans didn't even see them go.

Savior did though, and he stared off into the distance where the two had run.

"……..Well, I guess we wait until they come back." Savior said.

* * *

Somewhere in North Carolina… 

"WELCOME TO THE ANNUAL BLISTERING RUBBER EVENT WE CALL THE OMEGARACE!" A voice boomed over loudspeakers in the fairly large arena in which a racing track, surrounded by a large crowd, was positioned. "Get ready for speed, speed, speed! You've never seen anything move this fast before! Ne…"

And as the syllable hung in the air, being drawn more and more out, twin blurs of color zipped into the arena and blasted all over the blast, going up the track, into the stands, down onto the track, back and forth, up into the stands, back unto the track, and then an even faster blur around the whole thing until the two blasts of color zapped back out.

"Ver!"

A gigantic storm of confections and other stand sold treats exploded outward as popcorn boxes, hot dogs, sodas, nachos, and of course beers were all torn from people's hands by an intense wind. Down on the track, lined up racecars suddenly jerked as their tires blew, their windshields shattered, and parts of their bodies fell off. In one case, a driver found his entire car disintegrating around him, until he was left sitting in his seat clutching the steering wheel.

And in the announcing booth, the announcer, not aware that his toupee had been knocked askew and was now dangling off his head, jerked back at the sudden chaos, and then blinked and looked at the abrupt change that had been wrought in his stadium. He turned to his co-host, who looked equally stunned.

"What happened?" The co-host asked.

"I don't know…went too fast…"

And then, with a feedback squawk followed by a resounding crash, the stand on which the megaphone the announcer had been announcing from tipped over and crashed down, severed at its base.

* * *

Gotham City. 

"Well, looks like the old song and dance is about to play out again, eh Batsy?" Said the man. Tall, rather thin, and dressed in a green outfit covered with black question marks, we know who this is: Edward Nygma, known to most as the Riddler.

Batman glared at his foe, the bodies of Riddler's on and off personal female bodyguards, Quiz and Query lying unconscious at his feet. They didn't matter: what mattered was the Riddler, standing but a dozen feet away, hands firmly clenched onto his question mark cane, his green bowler hat perched perfectly on his head, looking contently at Batman…while behind him, in an elaborate deathtrap Riddler had wheeled out of the warehouse while Batman was taking care of his goons, were three people, two men and a women, tied up and gagged, looking at Batman with fearful, pleading eyes.

Batman didn't like this situation. He knew for certain only one thing that would happen: Riddler would give him a riddle. What Batman didn't know was what would happen if he solved it. Oh, he was fairly certain he would: Riddler wouldn't be giving him a complicated trigonometry problem to solve in five seconds, no. He was the Riddler, not the Mathematician. But what was the Riddler's angle? Would he let the people go if Batman solved it? Would he kill them? Would it be some kind of multi-faceted answer that would make the Riddler condemn one of his prisoners to death depending on how Batman answered it? Or would it be something else? In any case, Batman knew the attack option wasn't open to him at the moment: as fast he could hurl a Batarang, Riddler could press a button faster.

No, he did not like this situation, and Riddler knew it, as he smiled, completely knowing his part in this game, and eager to play it out. Just for ONCE, he was going to stump the blasted Bat.

"Very well, let us continue as it always goes! Riddle me this, Batma…"

The blast of wind came out of nowhere, a huge gust that nearly blew Batman over, and as his eyes widened at this sudden change he saw the Riddler go flying with a surprised and alarmed yell, his cane flying from his fingers as he was tossed heads over heels through the air and slammed into the wall of the warehouse a few dozen feet away, back first and upside down, at which point he fell head first into a pile of rotting trash bags. For a moment, the cane hung in the air…then fell.

Right into Batman's black gloved hand. Having grabbed it, he carefully turned it over, looking for any mechanisms that would trigger the trap. Finding none, he laid the cane down and quickly headed over to the deathtrap to free the prisoners. He encountered no difficulty in doing so, and as soon as they were free he headed over to the Riddler.

He wasn't going anywhere: the blow had knocked him stupid. But as Batman stood above the green suited lunatic, his ears beginning to catch sirens, he thought he could hear the Riddler muttering about what the hell had happened.

And now that Batman had time to think about it…what had just happened?

He arched an eyebrow for a second, then grimaced slightly. Provided by Nygma or not, he didn't like riddles.

As Kid Flash and Cauterize zapped on, continuing their battle, having been so wrapped up in each other they hadn't even noticed they'd helped Batman save some lives.

* * *

Somewhere in Detroit… 

What a cliché it was, really. An overloaded woman, her arms heavy with more bags she really should not have been carrying, trying to get a baby carriage up the stairs of a public building. You would think some people would help her…except that she was slightly colored. Perhaps it was a good tan, or perhaps she was mulatto…but whatever she was, she did not appear Caucasian. And while it didn't speak well of the man on the street these days, these days a lot of people just weren't very trusting. Maybe you can't blame them…but you can't help but notice as well.

Perhaps the fact that it was so cliché should have PREVENTED any tragedy from happening.

No.

The woman lost her grip just before she got her carriage up the last step of the first series of them, her sweaty hands slipping off the holding brace. So deep was her shock that the carriage had actually slid down a few steps before she started screaming, and to show some hope for the average person, they noticed that, seeing the carriage start to tumble down the stairs…

But none of them were close enough to help, though some tried mightily, running for the baby carriage as it bounced down the short flight of stairs, the baby inside starting to fuss at the ruckus…as the carriage rolled across the short length of sidewalk, bounced down onto the street, and rolled out onto said street…

Just in time for a car rushing to get through a yellow light to crash into it.

No one should ever have to hear the sound the mother made when she saw the car, two tons of metal, crash into the baby carriage, maybe 50 pounds of metal and plastics, and shatter the mobile holding cart like it was made of glass, the car braking to a stop as the parts scattered all over the street, as people gasped in shock and horror and the woman screamed and screamed and…

And then a blur of color solidified near here.

"Miss!" Cauterize said. "It's ok. I got him."

The woman looked in shock at this figure who had literally materialized from nowhere…and then she realized he was holding a little white bundle from which her baby was beginning to cry from the noise.

She snatched him away from Cauterize even as he began to offer the baby, crying in relief. Cauterize didn't wait around for thanks: the next second he was gone, picking up his swords as he dashed off.

It didn't take him long to find Kid Flash, standing a few blocks away.

"Wondered why you suddenly changed directions." He said.

"I'd say it was a good reason."

"I could have punched you in the back you know."

"You wouldn't have."

"No, guess I'll have to settle for the face." Kid Flash said, and then blasted at Cauterize again. Cauterize spun away from the punch and slashed at Kid Flash's arm: it was dodged, and then the two streaks blasted away again, going back and forth through Detroit a few times before firing off into the horizon, much to the confusion of a few people on tall skyscrapers who happened to be looking down.

"Say Elijah, don't tell me you're shown me all you can do!" Kid Flash said as the two ran, almost beside each other as they sized up their next attack.

"Please!" Cauterize retorted.

"Oh good, because I'm done dogging it!" Kid Flash replied, and then his already rapidly moving form sped up even more, leaving Cauterize behind. Behind his helmet, Cauterize's eyes widened, and then he growled and opened his own throttle even more…and trying not to admit that doing so was bringing a feeling to his body he hadn't felt in years.

Weariness.

* * *

The Titans had headed back to the suburbs after the two speedsters had left, just to be sure no one was trapped in the wreckage of the battle. It hadn't taken long for police cars to show up, but Savior had ignored their questions, telling them to help with the searching. For some reason, the cops listened to him. 

About ten minutes after the exit stage left of the speedsters, a long black limousine pulled up. Savior had been waiting for that car, as it had been apparent during the last three minutes that there was no one in any of the wrecked houses. Well, and the fact that Savior kept overhearing on the radios the police had that a large group of people had suddenly, magically appeared in front of the police station. As soon as the car was pulling up, Savior hopped over to the vehicle.

The chauffer got out, perhaps due to habit of opening the door for the previous occupant, but he needn't have done so, as the door opened on its own and the new Mayor of Light City, Roman Fernendez stepped out.

"Mayor." Savior said.

"Savior." Roman replied, looking around the mess. "Thought you were going to leave."

"Something came up." Savior replied.

"Yeah, I gathered." Roman said. "Well, I may as well be blunt…"

And that was as far as Roman got as the door on the opposite of the limousine finally opened. The voice came before the appearance.

"…THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!" Garry Turnquist roared as he stepped out. He quickly spied Savior. "YOU! You said this was over! What the hell just happened!" The new police chief yelled as he walked around the limo.

"Toby Garigen wasn't Cauterize. He was framed." Savior said. Roman looked alarmed at this information: Turnquist just looked madder.

"Figures. Who was it?" The large black man asked.

"You remember William Versaw?" Savior replied.

"What? Battlin' Bill? He…can't…he…disappeared…and…" Turnquist trailed off as Savior's sentence allowed him to put together all the floating pieces he had had in his own head. "Oh god. My god. It all makes sense."

"What? Who was it?" Roman asked.

"Detective Chesbro figured it out too. He actually beat us here. I think he might have more information then we do. He's getting medical treatment over there." Savior said, pointing to an ambulance that was parked down the road.

"He did? Well…I'd better see if I can debrief him then." Turnquist said as he turned and headed over for the ambulance. Roman Fernendez stayed there, still looking confused.

"Who was it?" He repeated.

Savior told him, laying out as much of the story as he could within a minute.

"My god…" Roman said. "It was that kid who interviewed Tercero?"

"Yeah."

"But…I had nothing to do with him! I swear! I never…!"

"I know." Savior replied. "I know."

"Oh. Good." Roman said, relaxing after he had begun to panic again. "So…where is Cauterize?"

"We couldn't fight him. We never could. So we called another speedster. It's up to him now." Savior said, looking off at the horizon. "Oh, and Mr. Mayor, you might want to get the police to clear the streets. For speedsters, the world is their battleground…but I have a feeling it's going to end where it began."

* * *

Somewhere in New Mexico. An isolated military base. 

The guard at the entrance was lying at the foot of his chair, having never seen what was coming. Kid Flash checked his pulse: strong. He'd just been knocked out.

The guards at the entrance of the actual base were knocked out as well: Kid Flash checked just to be sure. He glanced up, looking around.

The fight with Cauterize had continued across the United States, crossing cities and landmarks…and Kid Flash knew that he had the edge. Cauterize was fast, and he was skilled…but Kid Flash was faster. They'd only landed about nine more blows on each other since they had left Detroit, but six of those blows had been Kid Flash's.

That probably explained why Cauterize had suddenly cut out and dashed away when they had been traveling to wherever they went next during their fight. The sudden fleeing was so surprising to Kid Flash that he didn't give pursuit until a few seconds had passed…which was enough time for Cauterize to make some distance…straight to this military base.

Did he know it was here? Or had it been blind luck? Whatever the case, Kid Flash was certain Cauterize hadn't been trying to run away.

Kid Flash blurred through several rooms. Nothing but more unconscious soldiers.

"Elijah!" He yelled. "I know you're here! And I know you're not the type to cower! Come on! I'm sure you have a fair amount of gas left in your tank!"

No answer. Kid Flash zipped through a few more rooms. Nothing.

"Elijah!" Kid Flash yelled. Damn it, did he have to REALLY crank up the throttle and go through all the rooms before…

A slight sound.

Kid Flash was in the room about 0.00000000000032 of a second after his ears had heard the noise…only to find it had been the sound of yet another knocked out soldier. When he had lost consciousness, he had slumped against the wall, but eventually he had slid to his side. It had been that sound Kid Flash had heard, as he looked at the four soldiers lying on the ground in front of him…in front of the large door that had been almost entirely torn off its hinges, revealing a dark room…

Cauterize stepped from within the murk. He no longer had his swords. Instead, he had a large machine gun slung over his shoulder.

The two looked at each other.

And then Kid Flash snickered.

"Come ON Elijah." Kid Flash said. "Surely you don't think I can't dodge a bullet."

"No, I think you can dodge a bullet." Cauterize replied.

There was something wrong with his face, Kid Flash thought. His damn helmet made it really unclear what, but there was something there…something about the look...

And it clicked for Kid Flash. Cauterize wasn't looking AT him. He was looking past him.

Kid Flash turned around…

And saw the pile of guns. The absolutely gigantic pile of guns, nearly twice as big as Kid Flash was…

The guns that were no longer in a pile. The guns that were now all around the large room they were in, completely surrounding the teen, all the weapons floating in mid air, seemingly, as Cauterize materialized, briefly, back in the spot where he had just been, his firearm now pointed right at Kid Flash.

"Can you dodge a million?" Cauterize said.

All the guns opened fire simultaneously, or so it seemed, as Cauterize blurred around the room, going from gun to gun in a random, circular pattern, all of them firing at Kid Flash, who realized that Cauterize had been holding back more then a bit too, as he slipped into a Speed Force state and still found that by then nearly twenty guns had been fired at him, the bullets coming from all angles…

Kid Flash's problem wasn't speed, it was the fact that he didn't have eyes on the back of his head, as he started to dodge, bullets slipping past his arms, legs, head, torso, but even for him, there were so many, and no sooner did he try and slip deeper into his state then he spied another bullet or bullets that were just about to make contact and he had to dodge those, robbing him of the precious moment he would need to slow the world down even more so that dodging the bullets would be cake. If only he'd STAYED in a Speed Force assisted state when he'd gone into the room, but Kid Flash, though he was learning, wasn't quite patient enough to go everywhere like that, even if it might protect him…and now it might get him killed…

Guns began dropping to the ground, as their ammo ran dry, but there were still scores of them and Cauterize kept the onslaught up. He didn't expect to kill Kid Flash, but he hoped that he might just be able to do a little damage, just a little, to give him an edge…

There were so many bullets in the air that the guns themselves were being hit due to the massive circular crossfire Cauterize had set up around Kid Flash, and even Cauterize found himself needing to dodge a few of his own bullets. But he didn't let up, didn't stop, as the two forms stayed in a constant state of blur, as more and more and more guns ran empty or were shot by their brothers, until it was down to twenty, fifteen, ten, five, three, two…one, a handgun, with Cauterize standing in front of Kid Flash and emptying the last clip at him, as Kid Flash did one final set of dodges.

Then silence, as Kid Flash finally stopped, lowering his arms, panting slightly as he grinned at Cauterize, who grimaced and tossed the last empty gun aside.

"Heh. You missed."

"Did I?" Cauterize replied.

And then Kid Flash felt pain at his side, and he looked down to see a small crease just above his left hip, blood running out. One shot. One shot had grazed him.

That wasn't so bad.

What was bad was the fact that while Kid Flash was feeling the pain and instinctively checking it, Cauterize zapped across the room and floored him with a powerful punch.

Remember that part about concentration being needed for Speed Force states? Well, this was one time where one's concentration might be a tad bit lacking.

Albeit not enough that Kid Flash didn't tap the Speed Force at all: if that had been the case his head would have been knocked off. No, it was tapped…just not enough to avoid the blow, as he flew across the room and slammed against the metal wall, the back of his banging against the partition. Stars exploded in his vision.

They didn't last, as Kid Flash frantically tried to clear the cobwebs. His vision finally returned…just in time for Kid Flash to get a close up of Cauterize's boot heel.

For a moment anyway.

The heel slammed against the wall as Kid Flash dodged away, and Cauterize was forced to retreat as Kid Flash fired off an elbow at his knee, barely avoiding a dislocation. Before even Cauterize knew it though, Kid Flash was up and attacking, assaulting Cauterize with thousands of punches. Cauterize blocked and dodged easily at first…but then he began to notice that the blows were starting to come even faster…and faster…and then one was slamming into his chest. He staggered back in shock, but managed to duck before the roundhouse kick cleaved for his head. He continued going down, sweeping his leg out at Kid Flash's ankles, but Kid Flash leapt away, doing several backflips before landing and lancing back at Cauterize, who had retreated several steps. Cauterize dodged away from the punch to his face, slipped by the knee aimed at his gut, and spun around Kid Flash as he tried to counter by backhanding the side of the yellow teen's head, but Kid Flash blurred away, zipping around Cauterize and firing off a punch towards his open flank.

Cauterize caught it, barely, and the two glared at each other as they again struggled for dominance.

"What's wrong? Too quick for you?" Kid Flash asked.

The headbutt was powerful, Cauterize slamming his head forward and smashing the helmet against Kid Flash's face, reminding the teen that the exact truth of who was faster was yet to be discovered.

Kid Flash staggered back, and then righted himself. While he was reacting, Cauterize had retrieved his swords.

"You know, guns are overrated. Give me a good blade any day." Cauterize said.

Those good blades carved a swath in the wall where Kid Flash had just been, even as Kid Flash kicked for Cauterize's back and found the vigilante zipping away, and then the two blasted out of the empty weapons room, past all the empty guns on the floor, and out of the military base, the race back on and redoubled in intensity.

* * *

A Californian beach. 

The typical beach scene: girls in bikinis, surfers, kids running around being somewhat if not mostly ignored by their parents, people walking around who some might say should not have taken their shirts off. Swimming, tanning, building sand castles.

And a volleyball game.

The ball was served, returned, returned with an attempted spike, saved, bounced around a bit, attempted spike, save, returned…and as the ball swung down a yellow blur zipped down around the cars, onto the beach, and leapt up to spike the ball harder then it ever could be spiked, the ball turned from object of a game to deadly projectile as it flew over the net…and met a black blade, the ball slicing in half before the material burst into flame and vanished totally before the eyes of the shocked players.

"Hey! You broke our fucking ball!" One of the larger males growled…and then he got a good look at Cauterize as he lifted his long black katana from the slash and glared at the beach bum, the tanned volleyball player's reflection sliding across his cracked helmet.

"Shut up or I'll break YOU." Cauterize snarled.

Whether Cauterize would have was lost to time, as Kid Flash was suddenly there, firing off more punches, and the players realized that perhaps it might be in their better interests if they left. Which they did. Screaming and yelling.

Not that that was needed as a warning to the other beachgoers: Cauterize and Kid Flash were kicking up so much sand that people saw them coming a hundred feet away…when they could, as sometimes the clouds of sand would vanish and then reappear some distance away, streaks of glass marking these passings. The beach dissolved into chaos as people ran for the parking lot or into the water to get out of the way.

Cauterize zapped away from an uppercut, grabbed a nearby beach umbrella, closed it, charged it with kinetic energy, and hurled it at Kid Flash like a spear. Kid Flash dodged under it…and saw that Cauterize had already run behind him, caught the umbrella, and was hurling it at him again.

This time, Kid Flash caught it.

"No projectiles. Innocent pe…" The teen said as he dropped the umbrella.

The punch slammed into Kid Flash's gut and drove the wind out of him.

"Should have just said 'No projectiles.'" Cauterize replied, and lanced his elbow down for the top of Kid Flash's head. Kid Flash whirled away, ducked under the follow up kick, dodged the follow up slash, and then fired off several dozen of his own punches, which Cauterize blocked, then dashed away from the roundhouse…and got caught by the follow up dash punch, sending him sliding backwards across the sand. Kid Flash followed with a double fist punch, blocked by Cauterize's blades, as Cauterize shoved Kid Flash back. Their forms blurred as they zapped back and forth across the beach, yellow and black zig-zags that occasionally collided and kicked up a huge sand cloud.

Oh yes, remember how I said everyone had run away?

Not everyone.

As Cauterize dodged away from another punch, doing a loop motion in his backwards run, and Kid Flash reminded him that the closest distance between two points is the straight line as he dashed forward and floored Cauterize with a punch…

And also ran straight through an oblivious kid's sand castle, the kid freezing in shock as his elaborate structure exploded into so much dust.

Kid Flash dodged away from Cauterize after the blow to ensure he didn't get stabbed…and then became aware of the crying. He glanced behind him and down at the bawling kid.

Suddenly feeling like a louse, he turned to help…and then he immediately realized he was acting like his old name and turned around. But Cauterize was still getting up. And the kid was still crying. Kid Flash glanced back and forth…

Well, he was faster, right?

The bawling kid didn't see much…just a yellow blur in front of him as his sandcastle suddenly reappeared, grew larger…and then shone brilliantly as Kid Flash converted all the sand into glass via friction.

"There you go kid!" Kid Flash said, and whirled around…

Cauterize was standing there, swords down, waiting.

"You're surprised?" Cauterize asked at the fact that he hadn't hit Kid Flash while his back was turned.

"Somewhat."

"Don't be."

"I'll keep that in mind." Kid Flash finished, and blitzed at Cauterize, the two becoming enmeshed in another war of blows, while the kid gazed in wonder at his glass castle…at least until his frantic mother finally managed to get over to him and drag him away.

She was among the last of the parents: the second trouble showed up all the older people who had brought kids had gotten out of Dodge. The teenagers and single people, however, had not…as the fact that the battle was staying on the beach, not to mention that, when it was visible, it was insanely cool, eventually made them all cluster near one end on the grassy bluffs and parking lot above the beach, watching the fight as it moved, slowly, across the sands, kicking up massive clouds of grains that were fortunately for the viewers blown into the ocean.

Near a lifeguard chair, on which a lifeguard was actually still perched, albeit standing on his chair and wondering what to do as he looked down at the warring figures, the crowd actually started to cheer.

"Go get 'em Yellow!"

"Kick his ass Black!"

"I have ten bucks on Black!"

"Forget it, Black has swords, go Yellow!"

_Can you believe this?_ Kid Flash thought as he continued his fight…and as he dodged away from another slash, he decided to take it elsewhere, as it zapped back the way he had come, Cauterize following him.

And the crowd actually started running to head over to where the two speedsters had gone.

They got about 2/3 of the way there when Kid Flash and Cauterize zapped back the other way, and the crowd abruptly stopped and began running back to where they had been. They made it and resumed their cheering for the several seconds before the figures zapped farther along the beach, the crowd following after them.

They were just arriving when one of Cauterize's missed attacks slashed into the ground and sent a huge wave of sand flying up, and the crowd yelled as they were bombarded in it, as the sand ruined suntan lotion and got in a few people's eyes.

"Hey!" Kid Flash said, as Cauterize turned back to face him after that missed attack. "There's too many people here! Let's go someplace where there aren't any people!"

"Again, agreed." Cauterize replied.

And then the two figures were gone, some of the crowd managing to see their twin beams of color zap off onto the Pacific Ocean and off into the distance, disappearing.

Despite their discomfort, the crowd complained and awwweed that their entertainment had left, as they milled about for a bit and then actually returned to the beach, a lot of them picking up the glass tracks the two speedsters had made for souvenirs.

* * *

Somewhere in Chinese waters. 

The lookout, as per his job, first saw the strange water happenings, and within two minutes the entire crew of the large fishing boat was out watching. It rather looked like whales ejecting water through their blowholes…except that it was much larger and in neat rows. The crew talked among themselves, wondering what this strange phenomenon was, while one crewmember had retrieved his camcorder and was recording the event.

The line water eruptions were of course, Cauterize and Kid Flash, as they dashed back and forth on the water, their speed in a state where they send off waves of force that caused the water around them to plume upward. The two didn't much notice: they were too busy trying to land blows on each other, and besides they had caused this effect straight across the Pacific, so it wasn't all that impressive to them, as they zapped back and forth and around and past each other.

The Chinese, having determined that this strangeness didn't seem harmful (it was making some large waves, but nothing their boat couldn't handle) actually began to ohhh and ahhh at this display, like it was a firework show.

At least until the lines converged and four sets of exploding water lines started heading for their boat.

The crew began to jabber at each other as the lines approached, and then panic took over as everyone tried to get out of the way and hold on…until the lines split, going around the boat and past it, and the fear turned back to wonder as the fisherman ran to the other side and watched the lines disappear off into the distance, some of them laughing like children.

Later, the man who had recorded the event would sell the tape for a fair amount of money and use it to send his children to study at American schools, where they became a lawyer and a archeologist.

Just in case you were curious.

The lines continued until they hit the China mainland and went up on it. On a new continent, the race/battle continued.

* * *

The Himalayas. 

Cauterize ran up and around some cliff faces and stopped on a large bluff. Slipping out of the Speed Force state, he leaned over and took a few deep breaths. And he wasn't faking this time.

This was not good. Despite his endless training, Cauterize was beginning to realize that Kid Flash's natural ability did indeed exceed his own. And if that was the case…no, Elijah wouldn't think of it. He couldn't lose. He wouldn't. If he lost, they'd take him and judge him for what he had to do and lock him up, and he'd be DAMNED if he was punished…

And then Cauterize whirled, getting the sword up at the very last instant as Kid Flash slammed his fist into it. A giant bang rang through the air at the impact.

Breathing heavily, the two once again looked at each other, both knowing how close that was, and what it meant.

"That was only this much Elijah." Kid Flash said, raising a thumb and forefinger and measuring a small amount of distance between the two. "And it's getting smaller. You can see it. I know you can. The only question is what you plan to do about it."

Cauterize snorted, and then shoved Kid Flash away, getting into a stance, his swords at the ready.

"Fine. But I don't usually give second chances Elijah. I'd say an honorable surrender would be better then a humiliating defeat."

"I won't lose."

And then a loud rumbling noise arose in the two teens' ears, and the ground began to shake beneath them. The two looked around a bit before realizing where they were and what loud noises could do in that kind of area.

"Look what YOU did." They both said at the same time.

A gargantuan amount of snow and rock broke from the mountain above and began crashing down the slopes, it's sheer mass dwarfing the two figures in its way. The two glanced at the avalanche as it approached…and then both disappeared in a blur before it struck.

The snow continued to pour down the side of the mountain…as Cauterize and Kid Flash reappeared on TOP of the rushing ice and rock, their figures briefly materializing as Cauterize dodged away from a punch. Then they disappeared again, reappearing as Kid Flash ducked under a stab that literally parted his hair, and then the blurs of color reappeared as the two battled back and forth across the top of the avalanche, zapping around and back and forth and finally upward, defying gravity as they ran up the rock side the snow had broken and was still falling from and continued on, going back and forth and around and around the peaks…

And finally both stopping at they both came to the same small area and realized there was nowhere left to run.

They were at the top of Everest.

The two blinked, looking around at where they were, and then Kid Flash raised his hands, forming them into a T-Shape.

"Time out?" He asked.

Cauterize arched an eyebrow, though Kid Flash couldn't see it due to his helmet.

"Can I have a few seconds? Please?" Kid Flash asked.

Cauterize stared, and then he shrugged and lowered his swords. Kid Flash took that as a yes, and then he zipped over to the edge and raised his arms.

"MADE IT MA! TOP OF THE WORLD!" He yelled.

Then he casually strolled back to where he had been standing.

"Always wanted to say that." He confided.

"Are you quite done?"

"Yeah I'm done."

"Good."

The two met in a crash of blades and fists, and the two assaulted each other for about seventeen seconds before both sides stared slowing down and then stopping, breathing heavily.

"May I now suggest…we go someplace where the air isn't so thin." Kid Flash gasped.

"Once again…I am in agreeance…with your suggestion." Cauterize replied.

The two blurred away, running straight down the mountain, around and down the crags around it, and blasted away and out of Tibet, the war continuing.

* * *

And on it went. The speedsters battled across the lengths of Russia for several minutes before they arrived in Europe, dashing back and forth across borders like the way lines do on maps when people need to be told where the characters are going in movies, going briefly out onto the Atlantic, crossing down through England and Ireland, ending back up in Denmark, and then zig-zagging back and south through the rest of Europe and into Africa, zapping around and through the many countries the Dark Continent had until it finally came to… 

The Sahara Desert.

A large cactus split in half as a sword blow was again dodged, and Kid Flash retaliated with a punch that caught Cauterize across the face. He staggered away, and then he disappeared. So did Kid Flash, and a giant wave of force erupted from the ground two miles away as the two clashed again, Kid Flash dodging another few hundred sword slashes before he kicked Cauterize in the knee, and in the tiny moment where Cauterize could do not more then feel the pain he uppercutted him under the chin, this time sending him flying. He crashed down on the soft sand, bouncing once, spitting the dry grains out of his mouth as he tried to get up.

Kid Flash's fist stopped right in front of Cauterize's face. Cauterize's eyes widened…and then Kid Flash kicked him across the side of the head, sending him sliding across the sand.

"The only reason that punch didn't hit you is because I pulled it. You KNOW that Elijah." Kid Flash said, as he slipped out of the Speed Force and started walking to where Cauterize was trying to pull himself up, spitting out more sand that was tinged with red.

"My name…is Cauterize." Cauterize replied, though his usually calm, controlled tone was tinged with…what? Anger? Fear? Desperation?

"Fine. Here are the facts Cauterize. I'm faster then you. The ending of this battle started becoming evident back in the Netherlands. You're good, but I'm just better. I think you're smart enough to know that if this continues, all it will accomplish is ripping the hell out of your muscles before I take you in. That takes a bit to recover from Cauterize, even for us. Do you want to go to prison with your body so worn out it can't even control its own bowels? For the sake of your desires, which were at least a little noble, I'd rather spare you that indignity. But this is the last chance you get Cauterize."

Cauterize had stood during this little speech, and when it finished, he did not reply. Instead, he just stared at Kid Flash, his expression that irritating blank…

And then he rolled his shoulders, twirled his swords, and got in another combat stance.

"Better to fall into the dirt then to kiss it." Cauterize replied.

Kid Flash's eyes narrowed.

"Very well then."

The world began to alter the around the two, as each side again called on their power. But the end fact was that Kid Flash's well was deeper.

"I'll try and make it painless." Kid Flash said, and fired off at a speed even greater then the ones he had used before, even Cauterize wouldn't see him coming…

Only to find to his immense shock that Cauterize did indeed see him coming, and not just that, he was drawing back his arm and…

Cauterize swung out his arm and caught Kid Flash in the head and face via the crook his elbow formed between his forearm and upper arm, the blow knocking Kid Flash ass over elbows backwards into the air. As Cauterize slowly turned around, Kid Flash crashed down into the sand, gasping out a surprised breath.

"I don't really feel like sharing that distinction." Cauterize replied.

Kid Flash rolled away from Cauterize's stabbing sword and somersaulted backwards to a kneeling position, and his eyes widened as he found the other sword being thrown at him. It missed him, as he dashed away, but no sooner did he vanish then Cauterize had zapped over, grabbed his sword before it had even hit the ground, and dashed after Kid Flash. Kid Flash poured on the speed, trying to figure out what was going on. Had Cauterize been holding back…no! He had been sure that Elijah had hit his peak of speed and that his was greater! Then how…

Cauterize zapped past Kid Flash. The teen's eyes widened again.

Cauterize stopped dead.

Holding his sword out.

Kid Flash lost a chunk of his hair as he just managed to duck under the blow, his body actually stopping a foot afterward…and finding Cauterize's kick slamming into his chest, knocking him backwards.

Kid Flash rolled back with the impact, flipped to his feet, and blurred back to Cauterize, barraging him with punches. Every blow was blocked or dodged…and this time, it was clear that these weren't last moment defenses, some of which only succeeded because of luck. These were the blocks of…

The sword was stabbing for his head. Kid Flash's eyes widened again and he blurred away…

And found that that was just what Cauterize wanted, as he beat the Kid to his destination and intercepted Kid Flash's leg in mid run with his other sword. A bloody line appeared on Kid Flash's calf, and he yelled in pain and stopped, falling to one knee. It wasn't deep, but it hurt.

"I'm beginning to think your confidence might have been a tad bit…quick, wouldn't you say?"

The sword slashed for his head, and Kid Flash had no choice but to blur away…and his leg gave out on him, causing him to trip and take a tumble across the sands. He finally came a stop more then fifty feet away, not sure what hurt worse: the sand in his cut or the ringing in his head.

Cauterize was approaching in the distance, at a normal non Speed Force assisted pace, as Kid Flash rolled over and looked at his leg. Damn, it stung, and he couldn't just speed up the tissue regeneration: the sand would get stuck in the wound and it would become infected. But how could he clean it? He was in the middle of a desert, he had no water, and he couldn't clean it with his bare hands…

And then it came to him. Once, long ago, Kid Flash had read an entire library at super speed, and unlike his predecessors, he could REMEMBER anything he read at super speed. And he finally recalled some of the medical textbooks he had read…and he had an idea.

As Cauterize approached, Kid Flash carefully placed his hand over the wound…and then snarled through his teeth as he made a complicated series of hand motions.

A wind whirled up, a wind Kid Flash had to very carefully control, because if he wasn't careful he'd blown more sand into the wound. He didn't want it to blow, he wanted it to…suck. Which it did, as his manipulations created suction that managed to pull all the sand from the bloody gash…along with some blood and tissue. Kid Flash growled at the stab of pain in his leg, and then forced himself to ignore it as he utilized Cauterize's earlier technique, speeding up the blood clotting and the beginning stages of tissue regeneration. That would keep for now, but his leg was going to be tender for a bit…and that did not bode well for the battle.

Kid Flash got to his feet as Cauterize finished approaching.

"Well, you're up. Guess you're smarter then I thought." Cauterize said. "Now why don't you follow your own advice and surrender?"

"You can't be serious." Kid Flash replied.

"Oh I am. I've been nice so far Kid. I could have sliced your leg off."

"Screw you, you're bluffing. This was a shallow cut because all you could make was a shallow cut."

"Do you know that?"

No, he did not, but Kid Flash knew something was up, but he couldn't put his finger directly on it.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not giving up."

Cauterize cocked his head.

"It figures." He finally said. "I don't want to kill you Kid Flash. But I will not hesitate if that is the only way I can end this…"

Kid Flash decided he'd heard enough talk and dashed at Cauterize, his punch being blocked by Cauterize's metal gauntlet. Cauterize countered with a slash that Kid Flash ducked under, and then the two dissolved into a blurring shift of clashing colors, sand whirling up and blowing all around them, the two forms whipping up a mammoth sandstorm before they blitzed off, zapping back and forth as they battled.

And this time Kid Flash was getting the worst of it. His bum leg was hampering him, not to mention the fact that just when it seemed like he had Cauterize dead to rights he'd get one last little spurt of speed to escape the blow. Kid Flash KNEW there was some trick involved here, but figuring out what the trick was was proving as slippery as the times when you meet someone and suddenly blank on his or her name.

Except in this case, instead of embarrassment, that elusive detail might get him killed.

As Cauterize ducked under a punch and rammed his shoulder into Kid Flash's gut, shoving him backwards. Kid Flash glanced behind him and found he was about to get a back first introduction to a cactus, and he quickly zipped to the side before he got an unneeded acupuncture treatment…and Cauterize blitzed into him with a crashing right hook, sending him cartwheeling across the sand again.

_What is he doing…_Kid Flash thought as he righted himself and dodged away from another slash, ducked under a follow up, and started dodging away from a side kick…too slow, as he was struck in the chest and sent backwards across the sand again…and then on something a lot harder then sand. He bounced a few times on the harder substance, his mind confused at where he had ended up, and then he finally corrected his fall and got to his knees, staring down at the ground below him.

Glass. The sand had abruptly turned into glass, as far as the eye could see into the horizon. They had ended up the area that the Lord had destroyed with his Black Hole attack during the Final Night.

"GIVE UP!"

Kid Flash dashed away as Cauterize ran up and slashed, his sword carving a groove in the smooth, rolling ground…and Cauterize found himself slipping, just a bit, from the slickness of the glass. Kid Flash saw an opening and dashed forward…and found Cauterize's eyes finding him moments before his sword came up between Kid Flash's fist and his face.

"This…is….becoming…" Cauterize said…and then his foot slipped, just a bit…and Kid Flash dashed around Cauterize and punched him in the back, sending Cauterize flying this time. Cauterize flipped in mid air, landed…and almost lost his balance on the smooth glass.

Which allowed Kid Flash to dash forward and ram into him, shoulder first, carrying the vigilante backwards for a few hundred feet before he let him go. Cauterize continued backwards on the slick glass at high speed, just turning around, his eyes widening as he saw a tall, jagged pillar of crystal heading straight for him, or rather he was heading straight for it…until a onslaught of sword slashes reduced it to pieces.

As the semi-column collapsed around him, Cauterize both dodged away from the falling razor sharp shards and looked around for Kid Flash…

Who zipped in from the side…and whose fist was caught just before it hit Cauterize in the gut. Cauterize smirked.

"Still too slow." Cauterize said.

"Oh yes, it seems that way." Kid Flash replied. "But then again, its easier to appear faster then someone when one is stealing one's kinetic energy."

Cauterize's eyes widened.

And Kid Flash punched him across the face, sending him tumbling back across the glass fields. He finally slid to a stop and rolled up, glaring at Kid Flash.

"Thought you had me, didn't you? I have to admit, you were pretty good at it. You stole just enough so it looked like you were improving, rather then I was slowing down. But there's one problem with that technique Elijah. You have to see whatever you're slowing down. And when you couldn't see me…well, I could hit you. But all the same, well done. The fact that you can take kinetic energy just by looking shows how much you've mastered the Speed Force." Kid Flash said. One of Cauterize's swords was at his feet: he kicked it up to his hands and then tossed it back to Cauterize, who caught it.

"But I've seen better." Kid Flash said, and blitzed at Cauterize again. Cauterize tried the same trick…except this time it didn't work, because Kid Flash had thrown open his gates even wider, and even with the stolen kinetic power, it wasn't enough for Cauterize to dodge and counter. No, all he could do was block…and block, and block, as Kid Flash let loose another onslaught of blows, the fact that he'd finally seized on Cauterize's trick making his leg feel better, and to prove it, he kicked Cauterize in the chest with it as Cauterize tried to dodge away from his latest punch. He slid backwards again, and when he stopped it was clear: desperation was beginning to creep into his body language.

"Thinking you could have won if I hadn't clued in? No Cauterize. Not even that." Kid Flash said.

Cauterize disappeared. So did Kid Flash, and they reappeared with Kid Flash ramming in elbow into Cauterize's chin as he dodged another sword slash. Cauterize staggered back and fell to one knee.

"I would never have given in. You know why? Look around you." Kid Flash said, as he raised his arms and gestured. "You see this glass world? I was here when it was created Cauterize. I was part of the team that took down a dark god who wanted to destroy the Earth. I didn't surrender when I was faced with a power beyond my comprehension, I didn't surrender when he cut down my stronger friends like wheat before a scythe, and even when a power that is now lost to me backfired and I got to feel the sensation of being disintegrated without the peace of oblivion, I did not surrender! So if you honestly think I was going to give up because of your Speed Force trick, you got another thing coming. I didn't give up, and the Lord lost. As will you Cauterize. As will you."

"No." Cauterize said, as he started getting up. "No. No! NEVER!"

Kid Flash ducked under the double slash and rammed his fist into Cauterize's gut, driving the wind out of him. He stepped back from the wheezing vigilante.

"Yes. Yes you will Cauterize. It's just a matter of how quickly."

"I'll show you QUICKLY!" Cauterize yelled as he got up and went back on the attack.

Kid Flash dodged away from the stab, kneed Cauterize in the gut, and then backhanded him across the helmet, but as Cauterize spun from that blow he twirled his leg and slammed his heel into Kid Flash's chest. Spinning back up, he slashed repeatedly at the teen, missing every time, and then in a burst of rage he reared back and slashed out with both swords in a larger, more powerful cleave: it sliced through another glass pillar behind where Kid Flash had just been before the yellow clad teen slammed into Cauterize's side, knocking him across the glass again. Cauterize came to a stop against a glass wall, and then snapped his head to the side as Kid Flash's fist slammed into the glass, shattering it, as Cauterize got a leg up and kicked Kid Flash away, standing up. He blocked Kid Flash's punch with crossed swords and slashed them out in opposite directions: Kid Flash dodged and ran back through Cauterize's broken guard, slamming his fist across Cauterize's face. Cauterize staggered back a bit, and then yelled and went into a fury of sword slashes: Kid Flash dodged them all, and as the final set slashed the blades down and into the ground, Kid Flash leapt up, and almost in slow motion, twirled and slammed his leg out in a backwards leaping roundhouse, right into Cauterize's face, sending him flying right off his feet and crashing down onto his back.

More cracks spread across his helmet.

Kid Flash landed, breathing heavily. This wasn't without effort, as Kid Flash had to deal both with Elijah's own speed and his kinetic thievery…but even with those two powers, Kid Flash was just better.

And even with the helmet on, Kid Flash could see that Cauterize was fully realizing this as well, as he was standing up, looking at Kid Flash like he was Santa Claus, a figure believed to be a myth that had somehow become a reality.

"You can't win Elijah. Last, final chance. Surrender."

Cauterize finished standing up, swaying just a bit…and then his body tensed up. Kid Flash watched, as Cauterize looked at him a bit more…and then adjusted his position a bit. Kid Flash could hear the pops. The sign of someone loosening up.

He had figured it would be this, as Cauterize reached down and retrieved his swords.

"No." He finally said.

Kid Flash couldn't help it: he smirked a bit. The vigilante's resolve was unwavering. In part of his mind, Kid Flash mourned the fact that they had never discovered Elijah Versaw or the plight of his town before it was too late to change what Elijah had done. But there was still hope for Elijah. But for that hope to happen, he had to be shown the error of his ways, and that was only going to happen one way.

"You're going to force me to beat you right into the ground, aren't you?" Kid Flash said.

"Welcome to the human race." Cauterize replied.

The two disappeared.

And then reappeared some distance away, their bodies and weapons clashing together, as the blurs of color blasted and fired all over the glass battlefield, and eventually off of it. The battle on Africa lasted another minute before they zapped off onto the Atlantic Ocean, the two speedsters approached the final leg of the race.

One thing was for sure, it would be a photo finish.

* * *

"Anyone see anything?" Beast Boy asked from his perch on the special looking rock Terra had formed. He was sitting on it as a hawk, looking around. 

"For the twelfth time, no." Scalpel replied from his lookout post.

"Nothing here either." Savior replied.

"Ditto." Terra finished.

The four teens were once again perched far above Light City, just below the clouds of still clustered there chemicals (going into the clouds wasn't harmful, but as mentioned, it pretty much blocked all vision, even though they were thinner due to the shutdown of the plants. The theorized high winds for tonight either hadn't arrived yet or had been erased from the weather patterns, which could very well have happened), watching below. The cops had managed to clear the streets relatively quickly: as mentioned beforehand everyone was pretty much hiding inside due to Cauterize's actions. They had only begun to venture back out: it didn't take much for the cops to get them back in, as they just had to say "Cauterize isn't dead!" to a few people and it quickly spread like wildfire and sent everyone running back into their houses or shelters. The people that Cauterize had moved from the suburbs were either being kept in the police station or City Hall. The streets were empty, save for a few patrolling cars and the observing Titans.

"Man, it's been nearly an hour. Can't these guys run around the world in the blink of an eye?" Beast Boy griped.

"They can…but this isn't a race. This is a fight. There's racing in it, but…" Savior said, as he began to confuse himself. "All I know is, I'm pretty sure that they'll come back, so we have to stay alert and…"

The loud explosion of sound beneath them made Savior jump, and he blinked for a few seconds before he turned, ran to the edge of the rock, and leaned over to see an explosion down below.

Cauterize and Kid Flash had indeed returned, so fast none of the Titans had seen them approach as they zipped in from the ocean (which had been mostly uneventful except for Kid Flash having to dodge an oil tanker along the way) and headed back into the city, where the two had zapped around and through the twisted streets before Kid Flash had finally caught up to Cauterize and floored him with another punch, sending him flying across a street and against the side of a car.

"Damn, they're fast. Titans, go!" Savior ordered, and Terra swung the rock down towards the fight.

Kid Flash reappeared in front of Cauterize, breathing hard but not hyperventilating. He looked better then Cauterize: the vigilante's lip was bleeding again and his costume showed several new tears from the tumbles and impacts he'd endured. He even had to lean on the car in order to ensure he stayed up, as he looked balefully at Kid Flash, who just looked unhappy but determined.

"Elijah, we can't keep doing this!" He protested. "You've lost! You can't match my speed! Please, why won't you surrender? Are you afraid of prison? You think you'll be going to a normal jail? You think an _Oz_ could hold someone like you? You'll go to a special facility. You'll get help there. Come on Elijah, I…"

Cauterize's fist sent Kid Flash flying back across the street.

"Shut up and FIGHT!" Cauterize yelled, as he blasted after Kid Flash, his swords drawn back, as the teen flipped to his feet.

"As you wish." Kid Flash said, as he dodged away from the slash and kicked Cauterize across the face, sending him crashing into a nearby brick wall, a wall Kid Flash slammed Cauterize into more as he lanced over and slammed his fists into his chest. His follow up punch to the face missed though, as Cauterize ducked away and kicked Kid Flash in the gut. Kid Flash ducked the followup slash though and backhanded Cauterize farther down the street.

"So what do we do?" Scalpel said as the rock slid down near where the battle was happening, as the two figures once again became distorted colors as they dashed forward and met in another sparring match, their arms and legs blurring as they launched their blows and slashes.

Savior thought it over.

"We just watch for now. I don't think we can really interfere any…" Savior said, and then the two speedsters split apart and began zapping all around the streets, and the Titans got dizzy trying to follow them before they collided a dozen blocks away.

Cauterize flew against the side of another building and slammed against it, back first, hard. His swords clattered to the ground as he fell to his knees, gasping.

Kid Flash reappeared. There was still pity in his expression, but it was slowly slipping away, replaced by hard determination. He now understood that Elijah Versaw truly was a crusader, and you can only handle crusaders one way, as the helmeted teen, his glass front a spiderweb of cracks, looked up at him.

Kid Flash just cracked his knuckles.

Cauterize snatched up his swords and dashed forward at Kid Flash. Kid Flash dodged away from the double slash…and then his eyes widened slightly as instead of trying to continue the attack Cauterize ran off in a totally different direction. Kid Flash blinked, and then followed him.

Which was exactly what Cauterize wanted, as he zipped around a corner and onto a street on which both sides were packed with parked cars. Cauterize ran straight for one of them…and phased through it, running onward at an angle as he crossed back across the street and phased through another car, then breaking away to the other side and phasing through a third one, zigzagging up the road…as the cars exploded behind him, covering his rear with a deadly fire and shrapnel storm that would even give a Speed Force user trouble, as he finished up his demolition derby and ran onto the street that formed the T to the thoroughfare he had just turned into a bomb…

And Kid Flash slammed into him from the side, sending him flying down the road in a bone-breaking twirl. Indeed, it had been a good tactic…but Kid Flash hadn't run up the road. He'd run past the road, up the next road, and back the way he had come, just in time to intercept Cauterize as he had. That, perhaps more then anything, proved it: Kid Flash was faster. He'd covered nearly twice the ground in the same amount of time, as Cauterize finally stopped his tumble and lay on the ground.

Kid Flash zapped up and stopped about thirty feet from Cauterize. The teen was trying to get up, but he was struggling mightily. It looked to be pretty much all over but the shouting.

"Why…" Cauterize suddenly said. Kid Flash arched an eyebrow, as Cauterize struggled to his feet. The bastard had somehow held onto his swords.

"Why…are you doing this…" Cauterize asked. There wasn't any plea for mercy in the tone though: it was an actual question, like if Cauterize had been enquiring about the weather.

Kid Flash blinked. A long time ago, he would have given a smartass answer…but not this time.

"You murdered people Elijah. Hundreds of them. Even thought they did bad things…you broke the law Elijah. Even if they got away with breaking it…that didn't give you the right to break it as well. In a way, what you did was worse. They had no idea of what they were doing. You did. And you did it anyway."

"The law…" Cauterize replied: there might have been a hint of a chuckle in that voice, as he fully stood up, his form wavering. "Ah…but Kid Flash…surely you know…the law is a human institution…and humans are oh…so prone to failing…"

"That's not an excuse."

"An excuse you say? Who says it is an excuse? Who's to say…except history…and I know my history…" Cauterize said, and coughed. "Laws are fragile things. Back in the 30's, a bunch of folks though it would be best if people stopped drinking alcohol, so they outlawed alcohol. You know what this accomplished? Two things. It showed how blind and stupid these people for not realizing that people LIKE to drink alcohol…and it allowed people who were willing to provide it to make money, LOTS of money. Do you know why there are Stephen Pierces in this world Kid Flash? Because of Prohibition. Before then, criminals were the lackeys, the hired muscle of corrupt politicians. But Prohibition allowed criminals to become so obscenely rich that politicians became THEIR lackeys. In their moral superiority, those fools brought about the possibility for crime lords to exist. All because they thought their law would be for the best. And look what it did."

"Hindsight is always 20/20."

"Oh maybe…so let's keep on using that hindsight. I believe it was once against the law for black people to have any rights whatsoever! The law said they were slaves, less then animals, to be used and discarded as the almighty white race to see fit, at least until a man came along and thought that wasn't so great. Hell, this country had a little war over it, might have heard of it, nearly split the U.S in half…funny, in his time, Lincoln was despised and thought to be wrong for his actions too." Cauterize said. "What else should I bring up? How about the treatment of Japanese-Americans during World War II? They were locked up in concentration camps, surely that was against the law! Didn't stop them from doing it! How about hate literature, according to the Constitution that's not against the law, but damn, you'd think it should be! How about gay marriage? Homosexuality was once classified as a mental disorder, now people are screaming at each other on whether or not the law should be changed for them. Laws are words on paper, Kid Flash. It is what the talkers hide behind. And as Shakespeare said, talkers are not good doers."

Silence.

"Well…you say law is a human institution…and you willingly violated it. What does that make you?" Kid Flash asked.

Cauterize chuckled.

"I think…" Cauterize said, as he raised his swords, so that they were aimed at the ground at a rough 60-degree angle. "That the question should be…what does that make you…according to me?"

And then Cauterize's teeth clenched hard, as he began to growl…and Kid Flash realized something was wrong.

Then the feeling washed over him, a feeling only a Speed Force user could detect, and his eyes widened.

"ELIJAH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

Cauterize's only reply was a rising growling yell, as rips in the air suddenly opened behind him and yellow energy surged out, striking and coursing through Cauterize's form, dancing on his body.

"What the HELL?" Savior said as the rock floated down nearby. "What the hell is that!"

"……….It's the Speed Force." Scalpel replied. Somehow, he knew, knew that the power that was crackling over and around Elijah Versaw was the power of the Speed Force made visible, the energy that flowed through Cauterize and Kid Flash's bodies made visible and actual in the world.

But only Kid Flash knew how very dangerous this was. He'd screwed up, big time: he hadn't ended the battle and hence Elijah had resorted to THIS tactic.

What was he doing, exactly? As mentioned, one had to carefully train yourself in the Speed Force, because if you tried to run before you could walk, you could very well get killed. And Elijah Versaw, normally so cool and collected, had trained himself very well. But it wasn't enough. The peak of his abilities could not match Kid Flash's. So he had done the only thing he could think of in his refusal to lose: thrown caution to the wind and thrown the door to his particular connection wide open, calling upon the Speed Force at a level he had had never dared touch. In layman's terms, he had drawn new numbers on his speedometer and was now forcing the needle to them…and that was bad, because even IF drawing numbers on a car could magically increase its top speed…there's no guarantee that the engine will be able to keep up with the requirements of that speed.

So Cauterize was putting his life at great risk…and more. Because the Speed Force wasn't an engine, it was a separate dimension of incomprehensible power. It let those who found a bond with it draw upon its energies to defy the laws of physics in their world. But that was concentrated through the will of a human being. By throwing open this door, Cauterize hadn't just potentially increased his own speed to higher, possibly fatal levels, he had let raw Speed Force energy into the world.

And seeing how the maximum speed in our reality is the speed of light and that is considered slow in the Speed Force dimension…well, it wasn't quite as bad as matter meeting anti-matter…but it still had serious consequences.

A bolt of power crackled out, striking a nearby car. The car flew forward so fast that the Titans never saw what happened: one moment it was there and the next it had struck a building several dozen blocks away, hitting the (fortunately very thick) stone walls so fast the car was nearly compacted as thin as paper. Another bolt zapped another car, and as the Titans watched it suddenly began rusting, rusting so fast that within five seconds the entire car had fallen apart and dissolved into the wind.

"ELIJAH! STOP!" Kid Flash yelled. If you're wondering why Kid Flash didn't just run in and punch him to break Cauterize's connection, the reason was that while Kid Flash tapped the Speed Force, the different between his power and the power zapping around Cauterize was like the difference between trying to eat a steak and trying to eat a cow grazing on a field. If one of those Speed Force offshoots touched Kid Flash, he might be able to absorb it…or he might get accelerated so fast he'd smash into something before even he realized it, or his cells might age ten thousand years in a few seconds, or his heart might try and beat a few thousand times in a second…in any case, chances are it would be very harmful.

"STOP IT! YOU'LL RIP A HOLE BETWEEN OUR REALITIES! THE TWO WILL DESTROY EACH OTHER! STOP IT! STOP IT!!!!!!!!!!"

"NO!" Cauterize screamed back.

"ELIJAH, THIS WILL UNDO EVERYTHING YOU DID! STOP!"

"NO! YOU'LL DO THE SAME!" Cauterize yelled back.

And then, with a loud popping bang, the energy tendrils suddenly fizzled out. Cauterize jerked, and then his arms seemed to go limp as he slouched down.

"Elijah?" Kid Flash asked.

"You…you and your ignorance and your self righteous judgments and your goddamn LAWS, the laws that took my stepfather up to guard them and ignored him when he broke them, the laws that Tercero and Pierce bought and sold like they were tangible products to be used as needed and discarded, the laws you and your stupid, worthless fellows hold so high when all it does is bring misery to those who deserve it least…"

Cauterize looked up, and Kid Flash could feel the power, feel it coursing through Elijah's body. Well, one problem solved: Cauterize had managed to open the door and close it without killing himself or destroying the world…and in a process had given himself a power up whose limits Kid Flash had no idea of.

"I will not allow your system to judge me! I will not let them take me and proclaim me a monster and a madman when they stood by and did nothing! I WILL NOT BE HELD TO TASK BY THE LAWS THAT MADE MY MOTHER A BROKEN, WEEPING SHELL! **_I'LL DIE FIRST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"_**

"Ho boy." Savior said from his rock, as Cauterize snapped up his swords, did several fancy twirls, and then pointed the sword at Kid Flash.

"I'LL SHOW YOU NO MERCY! NOW GET READY!"

The only thing that saved Kid Flash was the fact that he had started slipping into a Speed Force state when Cauterize was still talking, even though to him it took nearly five hours for Cauterize to finish said talking. Kid Flash figured he'd need the boredom.

He was right.

Because even at the deep state he was in, he barely saw Cauterize as he dashed forward, going from 0 to roughly 130,000 mps in no time at all, as Kid Flash barely dodged away from the double slash. The Teen Titans didn't even see it: they were left staring at an empty street.

"HI-YAH!" Cauterize yelled as he slashed, as Kid Flash dodged, as mentioned, and ran backwards, only to have his eyes widen as Cauterize was suddenly in front of him, slashing again, and he yelled as he didn't quite dodge away and received a cut across his arm. He dashed off anyway, and found that instead of chasing Cauterize ran back and did a blur of sword twirls that fired off more wind blades at him. Kid Flash dodged them all, and to the Titans a building suddenly exploded and collapsed (ironically it was the same now abandoned slum where Cauterize had killed Deenen Combs), but Kid Flash didn't have time to notice that as Cauterize was in his face and slashing furiously. For the first time, Kid Flash actually had to block the blows, striking the flats and hilts of the swords to keep the blades away from him, but even that wasn't enough as Kid Flash received several nasty cuts to his hands and forearms before he blitzed away. Cauterize followed him, going around, up and down, and around again Light City, their trip so fast even the Titans couldn't track it.

Kid Flash ran around a corner, furiously trying to think of a plan, and then Cauterize zipped around the same corner. Kid Flash turned around to check…

And Cauterize leapt into the air, his body a blur of precise motions all the way back down to the ground as he spun/twirled/twisted/coiled/revolved with his swords, finally slashing them down when he hit the ground and firing off a gigantic wind blade that rapidly closed on Kid Flash's heels…

As he hit the end of the building, ran up the side of it, and leapt off just in time before the giant wind blade destroyed the five floors below him, doing a slow backflip over the destruction that erupted beneath him and then quickly whirling his body around to slow his fall before he landed…

And Cauterize appeared in front of him, right in mid slash. And this time there was no escape.

To the Titans, who were busy reacting to the exploding floors of the building…all they saw were the two figures reappear.

"……..Oh no." Terra said.

As Kid Flash staggered back, putting his hand to his chest and bringing it back, looking at the blood there…and then he fell to his knees, as Cauterize stood back up from his knelt position.

"All right, that's it! Titans, GO!" Savior yelled, and Terra put the rock in overdrive down towards the battle.

Cauterize glanced up behind him, and then he snorted and raised one hand, spinning his arm rapidly.

"OH NO! LOOK…!" Savior yelled, but it was two late, as the rock was caught in the tornado Cauterize had created, a powerful windstorm that swept the rock up and blew it away like it was made of paper, carrying the yelling, screaming Titans away with it.

Kid Flash groaned, and Cauterize turned back to him.

"What do you think of your laws now?" He asked.

"I know…that even if I die…they will bring you to justice. They'll punish you for what you did. " Kid Flash replied.

"Hmmmm." Cauterize replied. He did not press the attack: instead he raised one sword and tapped it against his shoulder. "But what I did…does that define who I am? I know I am not what the laws say child. And I am not a monster like people would say. If anything…I am a warrior, one who took action when no one else could. Believe me or not, it does not matter to me. But what I know is that a monster would finish you off while you are wounded, but a warrior…" Cauterize said, and then he suddenly brought the sword off his shoulder and tossed it to Kid Flash, who caught it with some surprise.

"A warrior offers a downed opponent a sword." Cauterize said, as he brought both his hands to his sole remaining blade. "If I have to kill you, it will not be with blades while you wield nothing. So come, Kid Flash! Stand! I know you can!"

And even though he had been slashed across the torso…he could…and he did.

"Now…fight with all your might! Because I will show no more mercy, and no quarter!" Cauterize said, and ran forward.

The swords clanged together, and the two struggled against each other, but while their speeds seemed to constantly surpass each others their strength remained the same…and then Kid Flash shoved Cauterize back and slashed at him. Cauterize ducked under the blow and spun around, and the two kicked in the Speed Force as they zapped forward. Their swords clashed together, again and again and again, as the two dueled at high speed, wind whirling up around them and blowing shards of paper and other loose trash, sparks shooting from the blades.

"Well, looks like you have some training in these arts!" Cauterize said, and then blocked the sword, forced it down, and then whirled in for a deadly decapitating strike.

His blade found its twin, as Kid Flash got it up in time to block.

"More then you would think!" Kid Flash replied, and went on the offensive as the two turned up their powers even more: to a viewer they now looked like a movie going on fast forward, the clangs of their weapons combining into one long metallic shriek.

Kid Flash dashed away: Cauterize followed, barely missing a slash that carved a deep line in the wall of a building, as Kid Flash rolled under it and slashed at Cauterize's back: Cauterize swung his sword behind him and did a behind the back block, and then whirled and sliced at Kid Flash's chest: Kid Flash ducked and swung his own sword out, only to find Cauterize bringing his blade back to block. Once again the two jostled for position.

And then they split apart, and once again their streaking forms blasted all over Light City, materializing in one place as they exchanged several blows and then split apart again, as the people of Light City cowered in their homes and asked whoever was listening for it to end.

On streets, on buildings, on the walls of buildings, in parks, in the suburbs, on the beaches, on the hills, and back to downtown the two battled, the frenzy growing and growing, as the blades, superbly designed, finally began to chip and crack as they clashed again and again and again, as Cauterize and Kid Flash zapped back and forth through the streets several more times before splitting apart, running back, and then dashing forward at each other at great speed.

They met outside City Hall, and every window on the block shattered from the sound that was made when their blades collided, though the sound was so quick that most normal people didn't hear it, as once again the two struggled against each other.

And then it came. A very slight creaking noise from Cauterize's blade. The kind of noise you don't want metal making.

The two split apart and slashed out at the same time, their swords colliding. Sparks flew as the two began slipping back into a Speed Force state and kept going, deeper and deeper, each trying to outpace the other.

Kid Flash shifted his weight and slid around the blow as he tried to punch Cauterize in the face: Cauterize dodged away and stabbed for Kid Flash's side: Kid Flash leapt and spun, bringing his sword down on Cauterize's. More sparks flew.

Cauterize did a small leap away: Kid Flash followed with a downward slash. The two blades met above the warriors, and Cauterize slid his sword down and away and then tried to swing it up and into Kid Flash's unprotected gut: Kid Flash met the blade at the ground before it could. Cauterize pulled away and slashed for Kid Flash's head: Kid Flash dodged and stabbed for the stomach: Cauterize whirled around it and went for a spinal slash, Kid Flash flipped onto his back and blocked the blow, shoving Cauterize away as he kipped up and whirled just in time to block another slash. The two exchanged several more blows, neither side getting anywhere, and then instead of blocking a downward slash Kid Flash spun around it and twirled his sword in his hand as he stabbed to the side. He only managed a scratch on his foe though, as Cauterize twirled away himself, and as Kid Flash turned to face him he was swinging his sword back and up for a powerful slash, leaving his chest and stomach wide open, and Kid Flash went for the target, stabbing…

Cauterize turned his slash into a roll, rolling under the blade, and as Kid Flash frantically turned around Cauterize stood up, turned around, and slashed all at the same time.

The two blades slammed together…

And Cauterize's sword broke off at the hilt, the black and gold etched metal shattering in his hand…even as Cauterize brought his foot up and kicked Kid Flash's sword wielding hand, knocking the blade free, as Cauterize released the hilt of his sword at Kid Flash's face, the flying hilt distracting the teen just for a small, small, small, small, small moment…

As Cauterize grabbed the other sword in mid air and stabbed.

Kid Flash's body jerked.

The forms reappeared in front of the City Hall, Cauterize, sword out, impaled through Kid Flash's front, the two speedsters looking at each other, human eyes staring at dead, black glass.

"And so, it ends." Cauterize said.

Kid Flash did not reply, as he looked slowly down at his chest and body.

"I have never said this to anyone yet…but they did not deserve it. You do. Rest in peace, Kid Flash." Cauterize said.

And Kid Flash looked back up, his eyes fierce.

"You might have come to that conclusion…a little fast."

Behind his helmet, Cauterize's eyes widened…and then he looked down.

At the sword, vertically held, was revealed, not stuck in Kid Flash's guts…but held tightly between his side and arm. The sensation of the blade sliding between the two had been the sensation Cauterize had thought was it pushing through flesh, flesh it had missed…

And for the first time…Cauterize's mouth dropped open in complete and utter shock.

"No."

The vigilante yanked back the blade, throwing open his reset throttle to the utter max, as he whirled and tried to slash the blade at Kid Flash's head.

Kid Flash's left hand chopped into Cauterize's wrist, and the blade flew from Cauterize's fingers as Kid Flash brought forward his right hand in a fist.

Cauterize's helmet shattered from the blow, as he fired off down the street like a bullet and crashed all the way through three buildings before he came to another street and bounced along that for a while before he finally came to a stop, not moving.

Kid Flash caught the blade, looked at it, and then dropped it at his feet as he sped off, arriving near Cauterize's fallen form.

His eyes finally showing, Elijah Versaw pushed himself off the ground, looking at his foe in utter astonishment. After everything, the training, the preparation, the kinetic energy theft, the insane risk charge up…

"How…how can you be faster…how…" Cauterize said.

"You're Cauterize. You used the Speed Force to spill blood." Kid Flash said, as he adjusted his mask. "I'm Kid Flash. The Speed Force is IN my blood."

* * *

_His name is Bart Allen._

_He was born in the future, the grandson of Barry Allen, who may have been the second Flash but was always considered the paragon among noble speedsters through the eras. His grandfather was a hero among heroes, nobly giving his life to save the world. His parents were heroes as well, despite the tragedy that life threw at them. And despite having to leave his home time and after several false starts, in the end Bart Allen took up the legacy as well._

_Once he was known as Impulse, his name defining him…but after a serious injury, he realized that such behavior was ultimately childish, and while he was still young and free to engage in kid games, one day the world would need him, and he would have to be ready. And so he retired his name and costume and took upon a new mantle. Once, Wally West wore it, the man who carried on the Flash name after Barry Allen sacrificed himself, until the time came when West had to put it away and don another costumea costume that he had done proud._

_One day, that will be HIS destiny._

_He is Bart Allen. He was Impulse. He is Kid Flash. One day, he will be The Flash._

_He was BORN to run.

* * *

_

"Give up Elijah. It's over. You lost." Kid Flash said. "If you don't take up my offer this time…I WILL beat you right into the ground."

By now, Cauterize had managed to get up once more. Where he found the strength, Kid Flash did not know.

"I am…many things." Cauterize said. "But I am…not…a hypocrite. So I say…you want this victory…you'll have to KILL ME!" Cauterize yelled, and blasted forward.

The two met, one last time, as the two speedsters fought once more, but now there was no grace, no refinement, no control, in Cauterize's movements. He fought like a wild animal, like a rapid beast determined not to die, and even against that the faster Kid Flash had to take a step back, as the two fought in a blur of motion before splitting apart, once again dashing around Light City.

"Damn, is this ever going to end?" Beast Boy said as the Titans finally got back to the city on their rock, as Cauterize and Kid Flash zapped all over the city, covering all the ground they did before, one final farewell tour as the two clashed again and again, neither side landing a blow, but Kid Flash knowing that when he landed his it was over, and Cauterize knew that too, as he grew more wild-eyed and desperate, and finally, after barely avoiding a kick, blasted away from Kid Flash. Kid Flash gave chase as the two hit the beaches of Light City, the beaches that had once brought the city renown and prosperity an eternity ago, and then they exploded out onto the water, as Kid Flash dashed in for another punch and Cauterize whirled away, running backwards for a second before he turned around…

And he saw it. But by then it was far too late.

The oil tanker had been told it could dock in Light City after a navigational mistake caused it to lose too much fuel to make it to its homeport. And so it had headed there, slowly making its way to the city, oblivious of the chaos that was surrounding it. The crew hadn't noticed when Kid Flash had dodged around it during his return trip to Light City. It had continued on…and now it was drawing close…as Cauterize ran out into the waters around Light City's bay and realized, too late, that it was in front of him.

And in his frame of mind…Cauterize only could think of one thing to do. If he'd been more reserved, more controlled like he usually was, he could have just run up the side, or cut off the Speed Force and gone under the water so he could swim to safety, or hell, even gone around it. But in the wild-eyed, uncontrolled mindset that Elijah had slipped into in his desperation not to lose…only one message came through: survive.

To Cauterize, it was much like trying to keep your eyes open when you sneeze. You can't, and Cauterize couldn't stop his own body, as it tapped the talent it possessed to avoid harm…

And vibrated his molecules, phasing Cauterize straight through the side of the oil tanker.

Kid Flash saw it coming. He had begun opening his mouth to shout a warning he knew would come too late…and then he saw Elijah's form begin to blur, and he realized what the teen had chosen to do…

And much like Elijah, Bart did what came naturally to him, as he threw open the throttle even more, even farther then he had during the entirety of the battle with Cauterize, pushing himself to a state he rarely used, and never this quickly.

As Cauterize's body was phasing through the hull, Kid Flash zapped up onto the tanker, and in an amount of time that was insane even for a Speed Force user, combed the entire oil tanker, grabbing the crewmembers and passengers and bringing them all out on the deck, getting the last few even as he felt the reaction beginning, as he clustered all the yet uncomprehending crew members on the deck…

And hoped to god that the movie _Waterworld_ was accurate.

As Cauterize finished phasing through the hull…and turned around, immediately realizing what he had done.

But even he lacked the speed to take it back.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

The entire oil tanker exploded, the disrupted atoms of the hull detonating and igniting the entire stock of crude liquid within. The explosion lit up the night sky as flames blasted from twenty different points on the tanker, including several spots on the deck…but fortunately, Kid Flash had chosen well: where he had positioned the crew wasn't one of them.

Not that it mattered, as no sooner had the crew realized they were all suddenly on the deck when the entire tanker had gone up in flames and all of them began screaming, even as flaming oil poured from the shattered hull, the ship immediately beginning to sink…

As Kid Flash collapsed, a wave of agony going through his muscles. He'd pushed himself too hard, too fast, and his engine had blown a gasket, so to speak. He'd need more then a few seconds to recover…

And it appeared life wasn't going to give him even those few seconds, as a second wave of explosions shook the tanker, and the top deck began to collapse, the ground breaking away towards the clustered people. They screamed even louder, as Kid Flash stared at the destruction and wondered what to do. He could carry two people at a time, tops, back to shore, and there was over a hundred people on the deck, and he was so tired…so very tired, and the floor was collapsing towards them…

As white lines shoot down, grabbing the people in two huge groups, as a green griffin swooped down and plucked Kid Flash off the deck, and then the Titans flew away as flame exploded upward from where they had just been. Savior pulled the crew up onto the (thankfully very large) rock and uncoiled his lines, as Beast Boy dropped Kid Flash down next to the now confused as hell group.

"Ok people, stay calm, you'll be ok…" Terra said, as Savior headed over to Kid Flash to check on him.

"You ok buddy?" Savior asked.

"Yeah…just burned myself out saving them…but I recover fast…" Kid Flash said, taking slow deep breaths to re-enrich his blood with oxygen…and coughing on the smoke as it spewed upward from the massive oil fire, as the tanker began slipping beneath the waves, vanishing rapidly into a massive, flaming pool of oil.

" Oh damn…" Scalpel said as he watched the tanker rip itself apart from one final set of explosions. "Oh god…after all this…why this…"

Savior turned away from Kid Flash and looked himself, his face grim.

"As H.L Mencken said, imagine the Creator as a low comedian and the world suddenly makes sense." Savior said dismally, and turned back to Terra. "Take these people to shore, quickly!"

"Already doing so! But what about Cauterize?" Terra asked.

"Somehow, I have a feeling he's ceased to be a problem."

Savior's assessment was right on the money, as on the nearby waterfront near the warehouse, roughly where the oil tanker would have set up anchor had Cauterize not done what he did…the vigilante appeared. Slowly, he reached up and slipped his helmet off, as Elijah, his hair soaked with sweat and blood, looked at the disaster unfolding in the ocean before him, blinking his eyes a few times like he hoped that doing so would make it disappear.

"No." Elijah said, as his helmet fell from his suddenly numb fingers. "Nooooooo…NO! NO! I DIDN'T WANT THIS!" Elijah screamed, falling to his knees. "I DIDN'T WANT IT TO END LIKE THIS!!!!!!!!! NO! WHY GOD NO! WHY LIKE THIS!?!??!?!" Elijah wailed, as he balled his hands up and brought his head down to them, almost like he was bowing to a vengeful god in the vain hopes he would take back the destruction he had wrought.

"Because every path has a consequence."

Elijah looked up from his agonizing to see Scalpel standing nearby. The alien had spied Cauterize as they had flown over and leapt off, saying he was going to keep an eye on him…like that was possible if Elijah didn't want it. But Scalpel knew even before he landed that Cauterize was beaten. He'd beaten himself. In the worst way possible.

"Noooooooooooooo…" Elijah moaned, looking out at the oil spill, which continued to grow as the tanker that had by now slipped beneath the waves continued to fountain out its cargo, the liquid immediately sliding to the surface as it and water didn't mix. Scalpel looked with pity on the tormented teenager, no longer the mighty vigilante Cauterize but reduced to the child he was, almost on the verge of asking for his mother. Which this had all been about, in the end.

"I'm sorry Elijah." Scalpel said, turning away and looking towards the spreading calamity. It had been a big tanker.

"The oil will ruin the beaches…without the beaches…my city…all I fought for…no…no…" Elijah whimpered, and then placed his face in his hands again, weeping quietly.

"I didn't want this as well Elijah…but like I said, every choice will lead to consequences. You chose to take up the blade and cut down your foes…and in the end it seemed that fate decided you would receive the cruelest cut in the end. The bad part of this city, the good, you…" Scalpel said, as he spied his teammates approaching on another one of Terra's rocks. "It is like your Shaking playwright said at the end of that dramatic piece about the doomed lovers. All are punished."

"Ho man…oh man oh man oh shit." Beast Boy said as he dropped down next to Scalpel and finally got a good luck as the oil spill.

"Can we clean that up?" Terra asked.

"I don't see how…not with our powers…what about you Kid Flash?" Savior asked.

"I don't know…even when I recover, I don't know what I could do…we'd need a aquamental to really have any effect, and even then…aw man…why did it have to end like this?"

"Why shouldn't it?"

The Teen Titans (and Kid Flash) turned at the sudden speaking voice, as Elijah slowly lifted himself up from his crouching position. His anguish was gone, replaced by something harder.

"Heroes. In the end, a name only. When it comes to the hard tasks…all you can do is stand by shackled by your own codes and rules, and fight when it has ceased to be important…always claiming but never doing…not when it matters…" Elijah said as he stood up, looking outward at the flaming oil spill.

"You did this Elijah. Not us. We made our choices, you made yours. Our intentions may be covering the road to hell, but you chose to walk on it." Savior replied.

Elijah glanced at the group. His blue eyes looked like chips of diamond.

"Maybe so…but in the end…all words are irrelevant. Only actions matter. And if said actions bring about consequences…well, one must face up to them…" Elijah said, his voice wistful.

"Do me a favor." He said, after a short pause. "If you see my mother…tell her I love her…and that this was all for her. Tell her to live." Elijah said, as he turned away.

"What? Elijah, what are you doing?" Scalpel asked.

"Setting things right." Elijah said, as he scooped up his helmet.

And Savior realized exactly what Elijah planned to do, and he raised an arm to issue an order to prevent it, because he was certain there was another way…

He never got the chance, as Elijah suddenly blurred away, and then the ground in front of the Titans exploded, as Elijah phased a hand through the line in a line in front of the Titans, throwing them all to the ground, including the still recovering Kid Flash, as Elijah reappeared back where he had been

"So long Titans." Elijah said, as he brought his helmet up.

"Elijah! What the hell are you trying to do!" Savior yelled as he got up. It was a rhetorical question, but Savior couldn't help but yell it all the same.

"Do what you heroes are supposed to do." Cauterize said, as he slipped his helmet back on. "I'm going to save the fucking day."

And Elijah Versaw gave one last look to the still trying to get up in time Titans, and then he winked at them through his shattered faceplate, a salute to worthy foes.

And then he was gone, blasting off across the water.

"What is he doing! WHAT IS HE DOING!" Savior cursed as he watched the form streak out to the oil spill. "What can he do, even WITH the Speed Force?"

"…Whatever it takes." Scalpel replied.

Elijah ran out onto the flaming spill, dodging among the fires as he reached the rough center of the oil slick, and then with a powerful dash he sent a ripple off the water, creating a small arc…a arc just small enough for Elijah to run around the forming ripple and up it, flying up into the air above the oil spill.

Scalpel blinked.

"Can he…"

And Elijah began to spin, his body vanishing into a blur, and then just plain vanishing, as he whirled at speeds beyond human comprehension. The tornado formed immediately and grew larger by the second…as it touched down on the oil and began sucking it up, carrying it up and away from the yet untouched beaches.

"What the hell is he doing? He can't carry all the oil away, there's too much of it! What…" Savior said…

And then the flaming oil began to be drawn in, and suddenly the whole tornado ignited in a blazing pillar of fire, once again lighting up the night, and every citizen of Light City who had been drawn outside by the explosion could only stay and marvel at the sight.

The Titans weren't marveling though, as they recoiled from the semi-explosion that resulted when all the oil on the tornado ignited, and then stared at the conflagration.

"He's not trying to draw away the oil. He's trying to draw it up until it all burns." Beast Boy said, figuring out the plan.

"What? Is he insane? That kind of heat will boil the water around him faster then even he can imagine! He'll be roasted alive! His speed won't help him if he just stays in one place! Fuck! Shit!" Savior cursed. "Terra, Beast Boy, go in! See if there's any way you can help him, any way at all!"

The new couple obeyed, flying out towards the flaming tornado, as Beast Boy turned into a dolphin and dove underwater at the edge of the shrinking oil puddle and Terra flew on towards the tornado itself. But they were both immediately repulsed, though Savior could only see Terra try several times to fly in and be driven back from the heat. She might have been able to manipulate liquid magma so the heat didn't hurt her, but this was pure fire, out of her control.

Beast Boy suddenly popped up in the water below the docks, looking a tad bit dazed as he turned human and Savior pulled him back onto solid ground.

"No good! The water's so hot it's not just boiling in the tornado, it's boiling under it! I couldn't get close! And even if I could, the suction's so powerful I would have been swept up and turned into fish sticks!" Beast Boy said. Savior hadn't expected any results, but hearing it straight from a teammate's mouth somehow made it absolute, as Terra flew back and set down, already telling Savior pretty much the same thing, but he had tuned it out as he looked at the fiery twister, which was still going, somehow…

"How are you still alive?" Savior asked.

And inside the tornado, Elijah wondered the same thing in a tiny corner of his mind, the main part taken up with the agony he was in, right in the middle of a blast furnace, his flesh literally starting to bubble, but he wouldn't stop, he just spun faster still, and faster, and faster…

"Bart?" Savior asked, as he looked over at his ally. Kid Flash flexed his legs one more time in the series of stretches he had been doing.

"I've recovered. I'll see if I can do anything." Kid Flash said, and dashed off, running across the water, onto the remaining oil, and zipping around the flame cyclone. But even he, with his great speed, couldn't find an opening, and he was forced to retreat back to the shore.

"Damn! No good! He's stuck in there!" Kid Flash said.

"Then…he's as good as dead." Savior said. "Fuck. Damn, Elijah…all right, practical matters, if he can't get…"

"Look." Scalpel said, pointing.

A stream of golden light suddenly broke from within the flame tornado.

"What the…"

More streams emerged, shining brilliantly.

"The Speed Force." Kid Flash said.

"What? Is he opening the tear again? Damn it, he'll…!" Savior yelled.

"No…" Kid Flash said. "No…this isn't like before…he's…not trying to draw more power into himself…he's just drawing on the energy…in and of itself…he's gone past the speed of light…gone past all the measurements in this world…" Kid Flash said.

"Oh? What happens then?" Savior asked, even as more and more light erupted from within the tornado.

Kid Flash just stared, even as the last of the oil was sucked up from the water and joined the flaming twister while golden power streamed from its heart.

"Transcendence."

And then it happened.

As the fire vanished, the oil finally giving completely burned out, accelerated by Elijah's power…

And then the streams of light become one gigantic explosion of luminescence, as the Titans threw up their hands to shield their eyes.

And then it faded, instantly, as the water tornado sagged and then collapsed, falling back into the ocean as the waves washed over each other, and then the sea was smooth again.

The Titans lowered their arms, staring at where the tornado had been.

"Damn! Quick! Rescue effort! He might still be alive somehow!" Savior ordered, and Beast Boy and Terra flew off again.

"He's not alive." Kid Flash said, as he looked out onto the water. "At least, not in the conventional sense any more."

"Then what the hell happened?" Savior asked.

"I don't think you could understand."

"Try me."

So Kid Flash told him.

And he had been right. He didn't really understand, as Beast Boy and Terra came back saying there wasn't a body. There wasn't even a trace of the teenager who had been named Elijah Versaw and called himself Cauterize. The two arrived at the tail end of Kid Flash's explanation.

"…….Damn." Terra said.

"…….Damn." Beast Boy echoed.

"…….Yeah. Damn." Savior said.

"………Oh damn." Scalpel said, but he wasn't looking at the group. He was looking up at the sky.

"Guys, I think we have a new problem."

A rumble of noise caught Savior's ear, and he looked up.

The clouds of chemicals above Light City had changed. They were larger, fatter, angrier, and as Savior watched, lightning streaked through them, followed by several short, fierce thunderclaps.

"………..Oh shit." Savior said. "The smoke from the oil combustion. Elijah burned up all the oil, but the smoke from it…so much…there's some kind of chemical reaction happening in the clouds! The oil smoke acted as a catalyst of some sort!"

"But what kind of catalyst?" Scalpel asked.

Savior was about to answer, except Beast Boy suddenly started yelling in extreme pain, grabbing his shoulder as he ran around. The Titans jumped, and then they looked around for an attack, and finding none, they went over to help Beast Boy, who was still holding his shoulder and yelling.

"Something stung me!" He yelled.

"Let me look." Scalpel said, gently taking Beast Boy's hand and drawing it away.

He found a small hole burned right through the shoulder of Beast Boy's outfit, a hole that continued into the flesh. It was small, but deep: he'd probably have to clean it to ensure no problems…and what the hell had made the hole in the first place?

"Looks like he was burned by something…but I can't see…"

And then it fell past the Titans, a swift drop that struck the ground…and began to hiss loudly. The Titans blinked, and then Terra yanked the ground where the drop had fallen up and brought it up for the Titans to examine.

As the liquid ate right through the foot of stone Terra had called up and fell back to the ground.

"…..Acid." Beast Boy said.

And then Savior felt it on his back, a small drop, and realizing what it was he shrugged his coat off and turned it around, revealing another drop of acid eating a hole through his jacket.

"Acid rain." Savior said grimly. "The oil smoke and chemical clouds did combine, and something in them has managed to form an extremely acidic compound that appears to be on the verge of being delivered to Light City. Just. Fucking. Great." Savior said, as he sliced the melting jacket portion off with the Shimmer and slipped it back on.

As more drops began to fall, hissing and eating away at whatever they struck, as the Titans suddenly realized how exposed they were.

"Quick, everyone! Under here!" Savior said, forming a Shimmer umbrella, and the Titans clustered under it. "Guys, we have a SERIOUS problem here. This stuff's POTENT. If we don't clear the clouds, this city…well, let's just say if the rain doesn't kill the people, the collapsing buildings will! The question is…what can we do?"

"Uh, I could form a rock fan…and blow the clouds away…and…" Terra stammered.

"No good, that could just move it to another city…owtch!" Savior said, as the acid rain began to fall a little heavier, eating at the Shimmer. And he knew the clouds were just starting to unleash their contents. "Damn! Does anyone have ANY ideas?"

And though it pained them, everyone came up blank.

"Dammit fuck! This city really is cursed!" Savior said, as he turned around and looked up at the angry purplish black clouds. "Well, we have to do something!"

"But what can we do?" Beast Boy said, feeling more helpless then he had at any point during this mission. "We have powers…but we can't move an entire weather front! We're just superheroes, not gods!"

"Not gods…wait! I know! Noel! The PDEM!" Scalpel said. Savior looked the alien.

"What?"

"The Personal Deus Ex Machina!"

"I know what it is, what? You want me to use it?"

"It could fix the problem, couldn't it?"

"Well yes…but Scalpel…that device can do anything on a small scale, operative word being ANYTHING! If I use it now, it won't be available to use the next time some souped up lunatic tries to destroy the world!"

"And if you don't use it now, this entire city is going to die, figuratively and most likely literally!"

"But…even so…a city…but quite possibly the world…" Savior said, not sure what to do.

"Noel." Kid Flash said, and the white haired leader of these four, feeling less like a leader then he ever had, looked at the speedster.

"For all his flaws, and his crimes, Elijah gave his LIFE for his city. Don't let his sacrifice be in vain!"

Savior stared at the yellow clan teen. He just looked back, his eyes sharing the looks of the three other Titans: we have faith you'll know what the right thing to do is.

Savior ground his teeth lightly, as he thought it over one last time, as the rain began to fall…

"All right." Savior said, his face growing determined, as he lifted his boot, slid the section aside, and removed the small black cube. He turned it over in his fingers, and then pressed the lone button. The cube opened up, the black sections rising up on white cylinders stalks until the cube had become the size of a large orange, a soft white light glowing within it.

"Wherever you are Elijah…you better appreciate me for this." Savior said, and then lowered his mouth to the cube.

"Purify the weather, so that nothing toxic, dangerous, or harmful to any life remains!"

And Savior turned and reared back, and then he slipped out from under the Shimmer umbrella as he hurled the cube upward into the sky. It flew up like a rocket, as a glow infused it, a reverse shooting start, as it flew up into the clouds…

And then the entire sky lit up in a colossal white flash, Light City truly living up to its name as the entire metropolis was bathed in intense radiance…and then it faded away, leaving just the clouds.

"Did it work?" Terra asked, as Savior removed the Shimmer umbrella.

"It's a PDEM. It ALWAYS works." Savior said. _I think._

"But the clouds are still here."

"Yeah…but look. They're just normal gray clouds. The chemical smoke is gone." Beast Boy said.

And then Scalpel squinted, as he saw something…and then couldn't understand why he was seeing what he was seeing…at least at first.

"Savior asked to purify the weather, not for it to go away. And it did what he asked. Look." Scalpel said, pointing up.

The Titans looked to the sky. Much like Scalpel, they couldn't believe what they were seeing.

"Man, those things really ARE literal." Beast Boy said.

"A tad too much so." Savior replied.

As soft white snow began falling on the Titans, almost like manna from the heavens, as if the gods were saying they were done tormenting the cursed town and that it was finally redeemed.

* * *

Roman couldn't believe it was snowing when he'd first seen it outside the windows of his limousine, and now, drawing up the docks, where several police cars, a few fire trucks, and an ambulance were, as his car stopped and he stepped out…he still couldn't believe it. 

The metahumans were nearby, their alien doctor examining the green one's shoulder, the others just sitting around, which he supposed he would allow them. They'd been through a lot.

Savior saw Roman approaching, and drew away with his group to talk to him.

"You superheroes certainly cause some strange things to happen." Roman said.

"You think this is odd, you should have seen the time my friend Cyborg was infected with a computer virus." Savior replied.

"Hmmm. I suppose you would know what you're talking about." Roman said. He was about to ask another question, except he saw someone approaching, and figured it would be best if he was silent for a bit. Savior saw him too.

"Chesbro." Savior said.

"Well, looks like you came through after all, I suppose." Chesbro said, a small bandage on his forehead. "Where's Cauterize?"

Savior sighed.

"He's gone."

"He got away?" Chesbro asked.

"He's dead?" Came another voice, as Turnquist approached from another unit of police, who seemed to be there at the moment mostly to stand around.

"Neither." Savior said. "He…well…uh…he…"

"He crossed over." Came yet another voice, as Kid Flash suddenly appeared and spoke.

"He what?" Chesbro asked.

Kid Flash sighed.

"The power from which Elijah and I derived our speed…it is a separate dimension. Some tap the power of it and that is all…but some do more. And the door goes both ways. To save Light City, Elijah forced himself beyond all limits, and went beyond them…and beyond our time and space. He crossed over to the Speed Force. He's one with it now."

Silence.

"Can he come back?" Chesbro asked.

"……..The Speed Force may fuel us, but it is still an alien energy not of this reality. When our forms cross the boundaries by exceeding the greatest known speeds of this universe…speedsters who do so usually do not survive it. And even if they do, once they have touched the purity of the power, what they are becomes part of it. They merge with the energy, becoming one with the dimension."

"…But can he come back?" Chesbro asked again.

Kid Flash looked thoughtful.

"It is a possibility." He finally said. "But the only ones who have ever crossed onto the Speed Force and come back…have been in my bloodline. No one else has ever returned. And while I suppose there is a first for anything…I doubt it. For all intents and purposes, Elijah Versaw is dead. More then that, he no longer exists in this world. The price he paid for how he used his speed."

"Then I guess your job here is done." Chesbro said. "Well then…"

"Hold it John." Turnquist said, and the younger man looked at his uncle's best friend. "You can't go."

"I can't stay here, this is an official police investigation."

"Exactly, and it needs to be headed up. I believe this is yours." Turnquist said, as he handed Chesbro a badge.

Chesbro blinked, and then looked at the gold shield.

"Chief, you made a mistake. This says lieutenant."

"No. No mistake." Turnquist replied.

"….Oh." Chesbro replied. "…Well…thank you."

"No need. Now check with everyone to make sure we didn't miss anything…not that it matters. In the end all the perps are dead or gone. Shakespeare said it best. All are punished." Turnquist said, as he turned and left, heading for a patrol car, as Savior got an odd sense of déjà vu.

"Congratulations Lieutenant. I'm sure you'll do your job well." Savior said.

"Yes…and for that job to be done I would prefer if I never saw you and your teammates again." Chesbro replied.

Savior chuckled.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Chesbro just nodded, and then he turned and headed back to his fellow police officers.

"So it's over?" Roman finally asked.

"Yeah. It's over." Savior said.

"But still…it's a pity." Kid Flash said.

"A pity?" Roman said, somehow not sounding self-righteous. "Well, I suppose you being a fellow Speed Force user you can relate better, but I…well, he brainwashed me. I nearly took the fall for his crimes. So did Toby Garigen, that poor bastard. He may have sacrificed himself for us, but don't forget his previous deeds in light of his final one."

"No Roman. I'm not doing that." Savior said, as he turned and looked out towards the water. "But you see…all actions have a consequence. Elijah did what he did because he felt that he had no other choice, that the world had done nothing but fail him and never would do anything but that. Whether or not that is true is ultimately irrelevant, I suppose."

Savior glanced at his teammates, and the back at Light City, as the light snow continued to fall, coating the municipality in a layer of white.

"But for all Cauterize did…he understood in the end. His actions brought about a final consequence…and Elijah faced up to it. Despite his power, when all the chips were down…he didn't run away."

And Savior gazed out onto the water, the clear quiet ocean that had been the final step in Cauterize's race.

And somewhere, far away, under the smooth purity of the sea, a burned, shattered helmet slowly sank, drifting slowly down into the dark murk of the heart of the waves.

To Be Concluded.

Really This Time.


	10. Run Run Away

Epilogue: Run Run Away

The street was called Mercury. That, for the first time during this hellish week, was what brought a small bit of amusement to Jonathon Chesbro: the fact that the street Elijah Versaw had lived on was named after the messenger of the gods, who had wings on his feet that made him extremely swift. It hadn't struck Chesbro the first time he had been to this house: he had been high on the fact that he finally knew who Cauterize was. Now, he realized the irony of it. Perhaps some might have accused him of not checking such a possible link, but such possibilities are always dismissed as foolish even if they are proven true. That was the power of perception. Or maybe the curse of it.

That, and how easily it could be manipulated in this day and age.

There was a second irony now, on the street called Mercury. The phrase "wings on one's feet" can also be used to describe someone who is running away extremely fast, usually because they are afraid of something, and that was the case here. Not like Chesbro could blame them. The battle between Cauterize and Kid Flash had caused extreme damage to several blocks of these suburbs, and the people that Cauterize hadn't spirited out of the way had pretty much all left when the police had arrived, both worried that their houses might have suffered damage they hadn't verified yet and the more irrational fear that Cauterize would come back. That, among other things, was what Chesbro faulted Elijah for: he didn't care who he terrified as long as he accomplished his goal of cleaning up Light City.

But that was pretty much immaterial now, he supposed. And in any case, Roman had opened a few hotels for the families to stay for free before the damage could be assessed. Such things were quite possible now that Roman had access to the slush funds that Geoffrey Tercero had kept. The man's greed had been obscene…and so had his fate, Chesbro supposed. Karma, if it existed, at work.

So the suburbs where the battle had begun were practically empty…except for one house. The Versaw house, the house Chesbro had tracked down and so had the Titans. Despite the huge hole in the side, an occupant remained there. Kei Michiko had been taken to the hospital for a slight injury she had suffered when the Titans had smashed the wall down, but Caroline Versaw remained in her home…or maybe, as Elijah had said, her prison.

The trip was largely a formality. It wasn't like the Titans or the LCPD needed evidence to prove Elijah Versaw had been Cauterize, now or at a trial. There would be no trial. Elijah was gone, having run so fast he ran right out of the world. Well, maybe not quite that…but it remained that the boy no longer existed as a living, breathing being on this plane of existence. Even so, Turnquist had asked Chesbro to take several officers to the house of Caroline Versaw and "give it one final review". Chesbro saw through it: he was the messenger. Huh, another irony.

And so, with about half a dozen police officers, Chesbro arrived back at the Versaw house. The snow, now lightly dusting everything, still bothered him, but the Titan who called himself Savior had said that it would eventually stop and the normal temperatures of Light City would quickly melt it away. Chesbro figured he could live with that.

The fact that there was a large gaping hole in the house pretty much rendered knocking moot, but Chesbro had one of the officers go in ahead, calling for Caroline. While he received no answer, he came back saying that Caroline was still there. Chesbro found her sitting in the kitchen, which is where the officers who had interviewed her had left her when they had been called away to clear the streets. A cup of ice-cold tea sat beside her, as the small, gray haired woman stared at the wall before her. It wasn't a glassy eyed stare, like the one a corpse might have…but it was fairly close.

At the time of the first interview, Chesbro was being treated and hadn't had a chance to tell anyone what was going on or what he had learned, so the officers had been giving Caroline Versaw a general questioning and not an interrogation on her son being Cauterize. The woman hadn't been much help: she had at first seemed utterly bewildered at what was going on, and then, as bits of information began to trickle in, she seemed to go into a strange kind of trance. Chesbro couldn't identify it, neither could the officers…but perhaps a psychologist could. Some women suffering a long history of abuse learn to detach themselves from their own bodies and mind, essentially turning themselves off until their abusers grew tired or bored. Faced with the fact that her son, the only thing she had left, and someone she undoubtedly loved deeply, had been the super powered murderer that had terrorized Light City for the past several days…after her life, she couldn't do anything else. And with reports that Cauterize was probably coming back, the officers had been distracted from Caroline's crisis, and had pretty much left her there at the table, where she had sat, trying to figure out this latest, greatest horror that had been visited upon her.

Chesbro had wondered if he might feel some anger towards this woman, wondered if he would blame her for being so weak to allow what had happened to her to go on, to not speak up and seek out help, and on top of that to be so blind that she had no clue of her son's plans…but all those musings in Chesbro died completely when he saw her. She looked so small, so fragile…fragility scarred deep from the crimes of William Versaw. Looking at her, even Chesbro felt a slight urge to protect her…but only probably because he knew the whole story, or probably the closest thing to the whole story that would ever be known. Battlin' Bill's bones were probably bleaching on some island in the middle of nowhere, Elijah was gone, and Caroline Versaw would never speak about her life. She had been thoroughly silenced.

He still did not excuse his crimes…but in those moments, Chesbro got a slightly deeper understanding on what had motivated Elijah. If life had reduced his mother to this…Chesbro possibly could have turned murderous too.

But, unlike Elijah it seemed, Chesbro understood one thing. There was an expression that said fight fire with fire.

Chesbro knew that if you did that, you inevitably ended up with ashes.

"Mrs. Versaw." Chesbro said. Caroline Versaw didn't seem to notice his presence, notice any of the cops at all. This did not alarm Chesbro. In fact, he rather expected it.

"I'm De…Lieutenant Chesbro." Chesbro said. "May I sit down?"

No answer.

Chesbro sat at the table anyway, gently, trying not to do anything that would alarm this badly damaged woman…and then again, she was in that mindset Chesbro could not really identify, she could have been confronted with a snarling pit bull and she would not have reacted.

"Lieutenant…" Said one of the officers. "What should we do?"

"Oh…ma'am…we have a search warrant…just doing a check over…" Chesbro said lamely. No answer. Chesbro looked at her for a few seconds, and then turned around.

"Search the place, but don't toss it. I repeat, DO NOT TOSS IT. If I hear one crash or the sound of anything breaking, you'll answer to me. Understand?" Chesbro said, his voice firm. There was a chorus of "Yes sirs" and then the officers left the room.

Chesbro turned back to Caroline. Her expression and pose had not changed. Chesbro took a few seconds to make sure the woman was still breathing: she was. She was just…not there. The line was open, and information was being received…but no one was home besides that.

Deciding it was pointless to sugarcoat anything, Chesbro went to the point: the truth about her son, and the fact that his power had seemingly claimed him, which essentially meant he was dead. Caroline sat emotionless through the entire thing.

"This is just procedure ma'am." Chesbro said after he was done. "After this we'll be out of your hair permanently. Most likely. Um, I believe someone will be assigned to fix your house…you might not want to stay here, there could be structural damage…"

No answer.

"Ma'am…" Chesbro said, and found he had no words for what to do next. This wasn't his area of expertise. But Chesbro was familiar with pain, and he didn't need Elijah's sordid tale to know that this woman was clearly in the grip of an agony he could never grasp, and not just that, but the fact it was the just the latest in a series of them, a hellish existence that never ceased to torment her. But Chesbro knew that this would be the straw that broke the camel's back. And despite the fact of what her son had done, it also meant he was gone, her last link to this world, and with him gone…she might as well be too. She just hadn't made it official yet.

But Chesbro also knew that giving up on life, as bad as it may be, was never the answer. And if he didn't say something, he was certain that was what was going to happen. There wouldn't even need to be any external assists. The woman would just…cease to be. And why wouldn't she? Her life had been a litany of people and situations telling her she had no worth at all. Worthless things should probably just disappear…

"Your son…I will not mince words. I do not like what he did, or condone it. But what he did…he did it for you. He did it so that you could finally live out your dreams, so that you could be happy. And I know that I can't even begin to imagine how it feels to lose him, but Elijah would want you to go on. For you, he did this…and for you, he gave his life. We just benefited as bystanders. In a way, Mrs. Versaw…you have most likely saved Light City. And I thank you for that."

Silence.

And then, a slight shift, a bit of motion.

"…………He was a good boy." Caroline said.

"…Yes. I'm sure he was."

"They'll hate him for what he did. And me."

"What? No. No, you don't have to worry about that Mrs.Versaw. There will be no retaliations…"

"It won't matter. He disturbed their lives. All of them. People…they don't like having their lives disturbed. It makes them feel bad…and that makes them do bad things."

Silence.

"Mrs.Versaw…what happened to you…and how it related to this city…that was not your fault. It never was. It never will be."

"No…no, I suppose not." Caroline said. "But that won't matter. It never does."

Chesbro digested those words a bit, and then realized he couldn't say or do any more.

"Are you sure you don't wish to be brought to a hotel?" Chesbro asked.

He was once again greeted with stony silence. Not thinking of anything else he could say, Chesbro gestured to one of his men to come over and keep an eye on the woman, as he left the kitchen, wondering if he had made any difference at all.

And though he'd never admit it to himself…part of him wished he had never put the pieces of his blackouts together, wished his brain hadn't read his intense desire to solve the case and tried to give him the information he needed. But it had been different then. Cauterize was literally faceless. Easy to demonize him, make his deeds define his absolute and be done with it. One never considered that behind your monster may yet lurk a man…a man who had his own life, his own problems, his own people he cared for, and who cared for him.

Yet…the Titans had figured it out too. Even if he'd never had his epiphany, Elijah Versaw still would have been discovered, could still have suffered the fate he had suffered.

And yet…

"Has anyone checked the basement yet?" He asked another officer, trying to take his mind off the guilt he was feeling, guilt he knew was groundless and couldn't help feeling anyway.

"Well, no sir. Your order to be careful is making it take a lot longer then normal, searches go a lot quicker when you can just tear the place up…"

"Right, right. Find anything?"

"Nothing except a hidden closet in the back of the kid's closet. And it was empty."

"I suppose that makes sense, he probably planted all his other gear at the Garigen place." Chesbro said. "Well then, I'll search the basement. Call if you discover anything interesting."

"Yes sir."

The basement seemed unremarkable: nothing but the cots where Elijah had placed his mother and Kei out of harm's way, and the usual basement clutter of boxes with a few old pieces of furniture. Chesbro picked his way through the boxes, more to keep his hands busy then with any real expectation of finding anything.

Yet…he was not surprised when he moved a few boxes aside and found the blue tarp covering something. He pulled it off to reveal a large, wheeled trunk. The trunk was not locked.

What he found inside…did not surprise Chesbro either.

Instead, it faced him with a choice. He could go upstairs and do his job…or he could forgo his duty, just once.

The latter did not appeal to him at all. He was a good cop, and perhaps more importantly, despite the pain that life had visited upon his mother, Elijah had gone about avenging it all wrong. Yes, his actions may have cut out the rot that was afflicting Light City, a rot Chesbro knew he himself most likely could never have touched…but that wasn't an excuse. Chesbro had lived his whole life dealing with excuses. The excuse of his father to stop living when his older brother died, the excuse of Turnquist to keep him out of danger not because he didn't feel Chesbro was qualified but because part of him couldn't separate Chesbro as a child with Chesbro as an adult…and Elijah's excuse as well, that his father and stepfather and school bullies gave him a justification to commit murder and cause terror.

And yet…

What good would doing his job do here?

Or perhaps more accurately…what good had his words done?

For all his crimes, Elijah had saved the city by stopping the oil from ruining the beautiful beaches that had once been Light City's pride and joy. That, and everything else, he had done so that his mother could be happy…a happiness she would most likely never find, because she had no idea how. Elijah, through his death, had robbed her of his guidance…except for…

But still…he was a cop…

And a human being.

In the end, Chesbro made his choice, and made his way back up the stairs.

"Find anything Lieutenant?" The same police officer asked.

"………….No. Nothing but junk. And I take it from any lack of communication that you and your fellows have found nothing as well."

"Nothing, nada, zip, zilch zero. This place was thought to be a formality and it appears to be just that."

"…Yes, all right. Ok then, call everyone off, and let's get back to the station. Those Titans may have helped save the day, but we still have to do all the paperwork."

"Heh, yeah, those rotten bastards." The officer said jokingly, and headed down the hall.

Chesbro made his way back to the kitchen. Caroline Versaw's position had not changed.

"Relieved. Go back to the car." Chesbro said to the officer watching over her, who nodded and left. "Mrs. Versaw…just in case anything happens, ANYTHING, here is my card." Chesbro said, as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. He offered it, and Caroline took it, much like an automaton would…and this allowed Chesbro to lean in and not look suspicious.

"The corner of the basement. Blue tarp. There's something under it for you. I strongly suggest you take a look." Chesbro said.

He had already pulled back by the time the second officer returned to the kitchen to tell him everyone had left the house, as he nodded to Caroline Versaw and left her.

Though he was not sure, he thought he had detected a slight hint of astonishment.

"Sir, there's something really wrong with that woman." The officer was saying. "You think the vigilante…"

"It wasn't anything he did. He loved his mother. And she loved him. And she's lost him."

"Yeah, but still…"

"Officer…there's nothing we can do…but don't fret…I think…in the end, there might just be some hope." Chesbro said, and walked away. He stepped up to his squad card and opened the door, sitting in the driver's seat.

He glanced at the police officer in the passenger seat and realized it wasn't the same one he had made the trip with. He must have gotten in the wrong car. Well, it didn't matter.

The officer looked familiar, though it took him a few seconds to place her: the female officer who he had met at the end of the second Cauterize attack and who had woken him up to tell him that Turnquist had become unofficial chief.

"Lieutenant? Is this your car?" She asked.

"I don't think so, but it doesn't matter, does it?" Chesbro asked.

"….No. I suppose it doesn't." The female officer replied. Chesbro nodded and put the car it gear, slowly easing away from the curb. The snow was still going, but it seemed different now, somehow…prettier.

"…I just like to say congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant." The female said, and Chesbro glanced wryly at her, trying to see if she was sucking up. She wasn't, he could tell. And that made him feel oddly…content.

"Well thank you Officer…you know, I never got your name…"

* * *

Two minutes after all the police cars had left, Caroline Versaw went down to the basement. 

Despite her pain, despite her despair, despite that voice in her head telling her like it had for so long that it was done, everything she had to live for was gone, so it was time to end it…she had to know.

She found the tarp easy enough.

When she pulled it off, it drifted to the floor. It had originally been in the trunk, but Chesbro had removed it to take a look, and then placed it on the top when he had closed the trunk. Caroline leaned down and picked it up.

It was an envelope. On it was written one word.

Mother.

Caroline stared at the letter for a few seconds, and then, with trembling fingers, she began to open it, managing to get the actual letter out twenty seconds later, recognizing her son's neat, precise handwriting.

_Dear Mom,_

_If you are reading this, then the worst has come to pass: despite all my precautions, something has gone awry, and I have been arrested, or worse, am dead. I had hoped that I would be able to find a gentler, easier way to tell you, someday, about this, but the best laid plains o' mice and men are ever to be led astray. Iif you are reading this, then all I can tell you is the truth._

_The truth is a fragile thing Mother, easily spun and distorted until nothing remains but a façade. Some people buy this façade because they lack the intellect to see through it, others buy it because they find it easier…and others buy into it because it serves their needs. It is often a hated thing, truth, and I will not lie and say I did not feel any of that vitriol. But despite it, I will speak it._

_The crimes they accuse me of, I am guilty of, but only by their system. The system that could have done nothing to help this city, or you. A system I had to discard if anything was to be done. They will most likely call me many things, from lunatic to monster, and quite possibly even evil. I am none of those things, mother. I will not deny I am a killer, for I took many lives in my quest…but it was what had to be done. Perhaps you will not believe me, either because of others or perhaps your own opinion, and you are free not to. But I knew in my heart that the only way this city could be saved was in blood and fire. It was why I chose my name, and it is why I am writing this, knowing what it could do to you._

_All I ask is one thing mother. Your whole life has not been yours. Either to your parents, your first husband and my father, your second husband, this city…you have lived according to their desires and wants, many of which have been wrong, or even true evil. And you have been told to believe that this is what you deserve. But it is not the truth mother. The truth is…you deserve to live your own life, however you see fit. Even if I am crucified for what I did…it will all be worth it as long as you understand this truth._

_This is my gift to you mother._

_Live._

_If I am alive, do what you will, whether it be to continue to love me as your son or hate me for what I chose to do, or deny me all together. It is your choice to make now, and in the end that is enough for me._

_If I am dead, mourn, but do not let yourself be crushed by your grief, for in the end, life goes on, and even in the wake of such sorrow there can be joy again. And I believe that you can find it._

_You're strong mother. So much stronger then even you know. And I know that you will find that strength._

_But whatever you may do…just live._

_Love,_

_Your Son_

_Elijah_

Caroline Versaw read the letter several times before she could bring herself to open the trunk. What she saw shocked her so much she nearly dropped the letter, as she let out a small gasp.

Money. Money filled the entire chest, stuffed it to bursting, all neatly tied and bundled. Money that Elijah had stolen over the years, from bad people who had no need for it any more, money that was thoroughly washed and utterly untraceable, even to its original foul owners. Untold millions.

Money, and his wish.

_Live._

"Oh Elijah…" Caroline said, as the tears began to come, and she collapsed by the chest, finally letting herself feel the reality of the grief…but also the reality of the gift her son had left her, as she wept quietly by the trunk full of money.

As mentioned, Mercury Street and its occupants, as well as much of the rest of the suburbs, was abandoned.

Hence no one saw it, roughly forty minutes later, when a woman came from the hole in her house, first dragging an immense trunk behind her that she barely managed to get into her car, and then two suitcases filled with everything of value, as she placed them in the trunk of her car, closed it, got behind the wheel, started up the car, slid out of the driveway, and slowly drove through the suburbs and out of Light City.

Forever.

* * *

The other car was also in motion, as it slowly turned onto a snow-covered street and made its way carefully down it. It was an old fashioned Rolls-Royce, a truly lovely car, its soft black paint job set off by the white that was drifting down on it. The streets were calm and quiet, like the people inside the car were the only ones there. 

Noel glanced to his side as Nigel let out another racking cough, spitting something into a handkerchief. Another bit of clotted blood hacked up from his lungs, most likely. Blacktrinians may have been able to endure blade wounds far better then humans…but they were far from invulnerable.

"Ugh." Nigel said, as he put the handkerchief away. "I don't regret this life I lead…but sometimes I wonder what makes me go on with it."

"Perhaps the question might be, what would you do without it?" Noel replied.

"Hehhhh. True. Then again…when the last time you see your girlfriend is when you're cutting apart some murder victim, you tend to be annoyed that that could have been the last time you ever saw her had some things not gone the way they had."

"True…true…but even so…do you think you could give it up?"

Nigel looked out the window.

"No…no I don't. But I probably will have to, one day."

"When that day comes, I'll make sure you do." Noel replied.

The car was a gift from Roman Fernendez, given to the Titans "since your car was destroyed and you need transportation back home". It had been confiscated from the late Stephen Pierce, for while his house had been vaporized, his garage had not been touched. And since all his sports cars were too small for what Noel was sure was needed and his limousines were too large, Noel had picked out this classic car instead.

Kid Flash was gone, back home. He would be ok: his wounds would heal fast. That was the thing about Speed Force users. They did everything fast. Noel had wrapped up everything with Turnquist and Roman and then he and his allies had taken the car and started for home.

And though part of him felt disbelief that it was all over, Noel had solid proof, for in the seats between Nigel and Noel was Elijah Versaw's sword. The broken one had been taken by the police, supposedly as evidence…but Bart had retrieved the whole one for the Titans. He had thought they might want it for some reason…and he had been right.

But not as a trophy.

No…more as a reminder for what could happen in this life, and how in the grand battles against world destroyers and evil gods, one could overlook the smaller things, where the suffering was just as great, if not greater, then in the big things…until it gets so bad that one will do anything to alleviate it.

Still…there was no denying what this mission had been. Despite the fact that the Titans had been unable to prevent any of the deaths that Elijah had set out to cause, and in the end Elijah had again escaped justice, though in a way Noel could cope with better…he had most likely saved Light City. With the criminals scattered and still probably seeing Cauterize in every shadow, the police would have an easier time cleaning things up, purging the corruption, while Roman and his fellows would hopefully bring back what had once made Light City known.

Still…even if it returned to glory, Cauterize's mark could never be removed. For all his good intentions, his cut had been deep.

Well…Light City aside…there had been one more good thing, Noel supposed, as he heard a slight noise and glanced behind himself to check.

In the back, Gar and Tara were asleep, Gar leaning up against his taller girlfriend, as the two finally gave in to exhaustion. Together in the back, they truly looked cute, and Noel regretted he couldn't take a picture.

Nigel had followed his eyes, and he glanced at Noel, giving him a toothy grin.

"You know Noel…it's not that hard playing stupid."

Noel blinked.

"…Cupid, Nigel. Playing cupid."

"What? Oh. Right." Nigel said, grinning sheepishly.

The two drove on for a bit, turning down another street that would finally lead them out of Light City, and back home to the Titans, where friends and family would be glad to have them back…and evil would surely reach out to again.

But not tonight.

"Well, come what may." Nigel commented. "Merry Christmas Noel."

Noel blinked, and then he looked oddly at Nigel.

"I said something erroneous again?" He asked, blushing a bit.

"Yeah, you might say that. Merry Christmas is a seasonal greeting Nigel. It's not one you make due to snow."

"Ah, temporal factors rather then climate. My apologies Noel."

"Oh, no need Nigel." Noel said, as he adjusted his mirror, and turned his eyes back to the road ahead. "Hmmm, I suppose in a way, it still fits. Merry Christmas Nigel." Noel said, looking thoughtful. "Good will towards men. Whatever path they may walk…or run."

And the Rolls-Royce slowly drove down the street that headed out of Light City, as we pan up through the buildings, through the soft snowfall, until he finally come to the top of the buildings, looking up at the sky…as one final gust of wind finally scattered fading cloud cover to reveal the moon, its light beaming down on Light City, in a brilliant luminescence that seemed almost heavensent.

As the figure stepped from the shadows on the roof and gazed contently on his city's shining namesake.

**_ August 8th 2004-January 12th 2005_**

**THE END**


End file.
